


Hazbin Hotel: Foiled

by TheGrudge154



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Valentino Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25708630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrudge154/pseuds/TheGrudge154
Summary: Angel always had doubts. About people's intentions, about what they truly wanted from him, a worry beaten into him over years of work at the Studio that he'd not admit to anyone. Until Alastor. Until they had spoken and spent time together, until they'd come to like each other, agreed to a trial run of their... arrangement. But when Valentino learns of just how involved the Radio Demon has gotten with his top star, he knows that Angel's doubt is his best chance to break them apart before they'd really started.A sequel to Foil.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 263





	1. Rough Night

What a strange turn of events the last few weeks had been.

It had been one thing to expect a change in routine when he had first invested in the Happy Hotel, adapting to the trials of running a business that he had already written off as a lost cause before it had a chance to get off the ground. Certainly in no small part to the actions of the well-meaning but naive staff before he'd waltzed on in to sate his boredom.  
But it had been an entirely different and foreign affair to get personally acquainted with one of the Hotel's patrons, specifically one who could not be more his opposite in almost every aspect he could think of. And definitely not to the level at which he now found himself being... involved.  
Alastor would almost find it amusing if it didn't simultaneously thrill and terrify him in equal measure. And _nothing_ scared him down here. Even right now, doing something as simple as walking through the streets of Pentagram had a different aura about it. There was a taste of something in the air as if his perspective on things had changed thanks to what he had agreed to. This “trial run” concocted up with _Angel Dust_ of all people.

A... partnership. A _relationship_. Such words hadn't even come _close_ to being in his lexicon until now.

To the outsiders looking in, no one would think that anything was different. And that was the point. True to their word, Alastor and Angel were taking things slow, slow as their feelings could manage so that their day to day lives weren't affected. Using the guise of being Angel's warden to observe him when he went out, no had suspected the Radio Demon's motives for volunteering to be by the spider's side. Not to mention he was keeping Husk's lips sealed with some rather rare brandy.  
But in all honesty, their hesitance to make it known was because both of them were hopeless when it came to genuine companionship in this manner. What _were_ you supposed to do when you were with someone as a partner? Sure, media and people could show and tell what they wanted, but how close to the truth were they really? And as much as Angel had decades of experience with the physical aspects, Alastor had none with _either_ side of this arrangement.

As he pondered it, he decided that “arrangement” didn't sound right. Arrangement made it seem like the business deal he'd struck up with Charlie, like it was nothing more than a professional courtesy to Angel to be doing this in the first place. After everything that had occurred to reach this point, Alastor's habit of trying to be formal was underselling the importance of this.  
The truth was that exploring these emotions, these ones that had never graced (or cursed) him before now, was _fascinating_. It hadn't overridden his views on the more intimate sins he knew of down here, nor did it really ease any convictions he had about personal space and the like, but when it came to Angel... When it was with Angel, it felt easy to handle.

Well... easi _er_. Hand holding had still been the limit so far.

But his mind was wandering. At that moment, Alastor was walking through the city streets, dressed in the same black and red dinner suit that he had worn when taking the spider out for the first time. His destination was a part of town that he would never have caught himself undead in before now. The realm of the Crimson Districts, a pure manifestation of carnal pleasures that usually made his stomach turn with just how vile some of the things on offer could be.  
It wasn't to get himself some of the services for sale, perish the thought. Even with his blooming relationship to Angel starting to colour the basic things differently, such base urges were _far_ removed from the forefront of his mind. He was here for Angel himself, to pick him up from the Studio to take him out for the evening on another of the Hotel's sanctioned “outings”.

It was becoming a regular thing for them now, using the veil of these allowed journeys to do things together. 'Dating', as the expression was. It was almost funny to think how eating, walking and engaging in such simple activities were such a contradiction to their reputations and what Hell tempted sinners with.  
But Alastor liked them. One could even say he'd grown a little more eager for more as the weeks had gone by.  
Unfortunately, the Radio Demon had a bit of a sour taste in his mouth over the reason why he was having to travel into such a squalid bit of territory tonight. He didn't blame Angel for choosing his 'profession', given what they'd spoken about over drinks and strolls regarding his past. But the reasons why he was still doing it _now_ seemed to be less out of desire and more out of... obligation.

Try as she might, Charlie had no real power in preventing Angel from fulfilling his contract to Valentino. Despite curfews and rules at the Hotel, he would still be called in when needed for another film or whatever else his boss wanted. Alastor was not keen on that. Having only caught a glimpse of what went on behind the scenes at the Red Club or after Angel had returned to his room in a messy state, it reeked of something foul.  
Yet when asked, Angel didn't want to talk about it, even with the little he'd let slip during more loose-lipped moments. As comfortable as he had become around Alastor to open up about a lot of things about himself, the spider had clearly not reached the point of being honest about his line of work and the people it involved. So the deer hadn't pushed it.

A few minutes passed before the Radio Demon was broken out of his thoughts from nearing the towering high-rise of the Studio. His eyes narrowed in revulsion at the blatant pornographic advertisements of “Hot Girls” and electronic billboards that showed off their latest offerings of titillation and desire.  
Some of these titles weren't even amusing from a morbid curiosity perspective. At least whenever the ones featuring Angel flicked on the screens, it wasn't nearly as stomach churning to contemplate since he clearly had some bias towards the subject.  
As expected by this point, Alastor knew the souls working the streets had already retreated to the darkness of the alleys and in-between roads at seeing him coming, meaning he was alone in front of the Studio entrance. Yet that didn't mean he wished to risk being observed going inside such a filthy den of lust. Think of the scandal those horrible newsreaders would have!  
He instead decided to use discretion, manifesting his cane in his right hand and pressing it into the ground with an insistent tap. In an instant, the black shadow of his powers erupted from the ground and swirled around his feet, a brief tweak in radio tuning being the only hint at what he was going to do before it suddenly raced up his body and swallowed him whole.  
He'd vanished.

* * *

At least temporarily. His abilities allowed him to slip through any of the security details Valentino had implemented in his building without being noticed, along with right past any of the unsightly sinners that worked here as enforcement. Not that they would ever have a chance against him if he was caught “breaking in” as it were, but he was not here for a fight.  
Instead, Alastor used his darkness to seek out the rooms on the upper floors where the actual studios were, specifically the dressing rooms of the actors and actresses who made their living here. Manifesting himself just around the corner from a hallway of such rooms, the deer brushed down the front of his jacket to make sure he was presentable when he finally made himself known to his partner.  
His plan was to wait for Angel inside his dressing room to surprise him or collect him with a knock at the door. The spider had mentioned he should be done around this time of day with any luck, but couldn't guarantee it depending on... specifics of the shoot. Alastor had asked for the “less detail the better” approach when it came to that.

But the Radio Demon's plans were immediately put on hold when he began to turn the corner. Before he'd even set his foot down into the sickly pink shag carpet, the click of a door lock and the sight of a mass of red and white slipping out the threshold of one such room drew his attention. He darted back behind cover, his permanent smile twitching into a lip curl at noticing who it was.  
Valentino. The moth demon's foul presence was all too apparent to Alastor even with his limited visibility, having to try really hard not let his disdainful static break the silence of the corridor. The overlord closed the door behind him and let out an almighty sigh, adjusting his thick crimson coat as two of his multiple limbs fished out a cigarette and a light.  
As the pimp exhaled a trail of red-tinged smoke in a swirl around his head, he smirked to himself before licking over his lips. One of his hands slid down the front of his clothes, blatantly grabbing at his crotch as if to adjust himself before he started to turn away. Alastor's jaws clenched against each other at such a display, waiting as long as it took for Valentino to disappear through a door at the end of the hall. Skin-crawling... he never did like moths.

The implications were obvious at any rate. Valentino had no doubt been trying to exercise his authority over the ones in his charge, thought Alastor. Such things never made sense to him. It was all well and good indulging in your vices down in Hell, but that pimp came across as a specific brand of repulsive given his particular choice of pastime with those in his employ.  
With enough time, the deer would certainly make it a goal to take down that creature so that he'd know full well how the Radio Demon had gained his reputation. But planning a murder would unfortunately have to wait for now. With what he'd just seen, the unfamiliar sense of unease that Alastor had only just begun to get accustomed to as of late was growing.

He rounded the corner and headed down the hall at a brisk pace, passing each door and analysing the names on each one until he found the right one. All of them were probably stage names, some pun-based, some just sickly, all emblazoned on the wood in a gold star. A subtle trick to make them feel as though they were worthy of their status in the Studio perhaps, he thought.  
But it was only when Alastor found himself in front of the door that Valentino had just used did he find that unease twist into something hotter. Angrier.

Angel's name was on it.

Without even a moment's hesitation, Alastor grasped the door handle and twisted it in a jerking motion, stepping inside and closing it to save himself time. The room was pretty much what he expected a dressing room in such a place would look like. The same vibrant colours as the carpets, shining lights around the mirrors like the days of stage girls, posters of the Studio's attractions on the walls.  
Naturally, he felt like bugs were crawling over his skin at the other objects in here. The... “toys” of different shapes and sizes strewn around the ground like discarded clothes, _actual_ discarded clothes of lingerie and barely-there designs. And that said nothing about the handcuffs, the gags, and the bottles of substances that he didn't even wish to speculate about the contents of.  
His foot touched something as he took another step. He was met with the blaring screen of one of those confounded phone contraptions on the floor, shining right in his eyes with how bright it was. He knelt down, taking a hold of the thing daintily between two of his fingers and looking at the screen. It looked like the same device Angel used... and it appeared to be some showing sort of conversation.

_angie_fluffy_bootz – 18:48 PM_   
**cherri h elp**

_angie_fluffy_bootz – 18:48PM_   
**hes gonnagtjhgdf**

  
  
_bombingbichbabe – 18:48PM_   
**wait whats goin on?**

  
  
_bombingbichbabe – 18:49PM_   
**babe?**

_bombingbichbabe – 18:49PM_   
**tell me where u are ill come get u**

_bombingbichbabe – 18:50PM  
_ **angie plz whats happening?**

The screen suddenly shut off, causing Alastor to blink. He had no idea how these things worked, but he didn't think he'd done anything to switch the device off... He slipped the rectangle into his pocket with a grunt, finding his sense of concern growing ever stronger as he stood. What on earth was Angel wanting help from to frantically message who he assumed was the Cherri girl?  
But the questions of why and how suddenly didn't matter. None of that mattered when his deep red eyes fell upon something on the floor. Something that had crumpled in a pile before the dressing table, a hand weakly reaching up from it to the wooden surface for support and having clearly failed with how they'd fallen down.

Angel.

Alastor darted forward, dismissing his cane with a jerk of his wrist as he came down towards the collapsed spider's side. Angel was clad in the same black lace and stockings he'd had on before at the Hotel, along with a bright pink mini skirt that had partially slipped down his hips. The straps on his legs had threatened to rip on one side and actually had on the other, like he'd been attacked. M arks were visible through his fur, deep bruises around his arms and back with harder red imprints on his neck.  
The deer felt his nausea swell as he reached out, taking a hold of the star's body and slowly turning him over onto his back. His smile faded considerably. A gentle groan escaped Angel's hung open jaws, an unflattering line of saliva trailing out of one side of his mouth. His made-up eyes were glossed over, sole pupil wide, and his lolling head meant he was struggling to stay focused on any one particular thing. Alastor could see no wounds to his head, but he could tell the arachnid was fighting to stay conscious.

“Angel?” he asked gently, keeping his voice low and assuring in the same tone he knew the spider liked. “Angel, can you hear me?”  
“...Al?” came the strained answer, his eyes still wandering all over the room. Alastor reaffirmed his grip and pulled the arachnid closer to him to try and sit him up. “Ah...!”  
Angel immediately responded with a hard tension of his muscles, suddenly yelping at being moved as if the action had caused him physical pain. Alastor cringed with a tweak of static.  
“Yes, it's Alastor... what happened?”  
“... shiiiitt...” Angel croaked, his words slurring together as his head fell back again. “We werrree goin'out, wereenn't we...? Waitasec... I ca-”  
“Forget tonight,” Alastor interrupted, using one of his hands to hold his partner's head up. He scowled as his gaze wandered over the damage. “What did he do to you?”  
“Nnnoo... noooo, I neeedta get readyyy...” the spider insisted, making an attempt to raise his arms up before they too went slack and hit the ground with a thud. “Look... nniiceee fffer yya...”

Alastor's already faint grin was threatening to crack into a snarl as he again tried to pull Angel towards him. He felt the star's head fall against his shoulder, face muffled into the deer's waistcoat. The effeminate demon's back heaved as he wheezed for air, his body still twitching as the Radio Demon made sure his actions were as gentle as he could make them to stop causing him any more pain.  
But it was obvious that his strength had reached its limit when Alastor suddenly felt Angel shake. He was trying to contain himself, even despite his willpower being completely sapped thanks to Valentino's doping. It didn't last long, only a matter of seconds before his typical attempts to keep his emotional dam up failed.  
And he began to sob pathetically into the deer's shoulder.

Alastor's smile was a thread away from dissolving. He didn't need to ask what had happened. He _knew_. From how Valentino had acted in the Club to just outside the door, this was why Angel never spoke about his work at the Studio. Valentino didn't just get rough with dishing out punishments with his hands. He had other methods. Invasive ones. And that didn't just make Alastor feel disgusted. He was _furious_.  
He could feel that hot burning in his core rising, his eyes flaring with light as the radio noises of his demonic power began to screech in the air. How _dare_ he do this to Angel. Treat him like something with the same worth as all these sexual aids in here, just to be used and discarded when it was warranted...  
Oh, the things he was going to do to that monster... He wasn't just going to best him in a fight, oh no, that would be _far_ too quick. He'd be patient about it. Maybe start by slicing out his tongue a sliver at a time. Plucking those spindly limbs from his body one by one like a cruel child with an ant in their grasp. Then he could burn the stumps left behind, making sure each singing injury made him feel as rotten as-

“N-Ngh...”  
He stopped when Angel grimaced against him. No. He couldn't neglect his partner, not now. A focus on vengeance or an outlet for his anger would need to wait, it didn't matter Not nearly as much as Angel. He needed to get him out of this place.  
The radio dials in his irises faded into nothing as he softly held Angel's head around to back to get him to look at him. The spider's face was stained with tears and smudged eyeliner, his voice breaking and his gaze wandering to the floor.  
“...he sssaid he... 'd get Nuggs... 'e used sssomethin' on me...”  
“Shh...” Alastor stopped him, pressing a pointed tip of his glove to Angel's lips and giving him a gentle smile to try and ease him out of his daze. “Don't speak. Can you stand?”

Angel could only groan as an answer. His voice had turned emotionless, head falling forward with his thick fringe falling in front of his face. The Radio Demon's attempt at smiling was having a hard time staying there in response. He huffed as he adjusted his hold, putting his arms beneath Angel's upper pair to hoist him upright. Easier said than done on a demon that was taller than him, but he eventually had the spider leaning against him for support despite the obvious trembling in his legs.  
“Hold on to me,” Alastor instructed, gripping the arachnid around his waist as he closed his eyes to concentrate. Angel cringed in on himself, another yelp of pain bursting out of his clenched jaws when Alastor's hand touched him there. The deer flinched with a twitch of his ears. He would just have to make do.  
With a fluttering of bright red apparitions flickering in and out of existence around his head, Alastor's eyes flashed open and his shadows came to greet them. They coiled around the two demons' bodies like they were alive, sliding up them like sentient ink until they were enveloped in the blanket of darkness.

With a final departing snippet of a blaring radio frequency, they disappeared.

* * *

Though it had taken quite a lot of his own energy to pull of a simultaneous transport of two beings at once using his abilities, Alastor had managed. He'd opened his gateway to manifest right in Angel's room back at the Hotel, the spider's weak body still leaning on him for support even as his own was straining from the effort.  
To even think he would ever be in this position, supporting another demon and _helping_ them after they endured things that were not technically any of his business would have been laughable only a few weeks ago. Part of him still wanted to laugh, being so far out of his comfort zone as it was.  
But what he had seen in that Studio was nothing to laugh about. What had happened to Angel was nothing to laugh about. And if he was going to commit himself seriously to their deal of wanting to see what being together would be like, then he had to take this seriously too. He had to help his partner.

“Just a bit further, Angel...” Alastor grunted, taking gentle steps with his hold on the arachnid as firm as possible without being uncomfortable. Even with the slow pace towards the bathroom, Angel's drugged out self was still dragging his feet, only able to make occasional whines or sniffs as his lucidity was still lost. The Radio Demon felt a bead of sweat run from his brow as he nudged the door open with his foot to pull Angel inside.  
The bathroom was basic like the other amenities of the Hotel, but it would do for their purposes. As much as his arms were now burning at him to stop, since it was clear from his physique that physical strength was not his forte, Alastor managed to set Angel down into the bathtub against the wall.  
The muted colours of the tiles almost seemed too fitting for the mood as the star's lanky frame sprawled over the vessel like he'd been carelessly dumped there. Alastor's smile remained only barely visible as he removed his jacket and dragged over a small stool to sit on, rolling up his sleeves to make sure all of Angel's limbs were inside.  
He supposed one of the first rules he'd ever established about his killings could be applied here. Always clean up the mess.

He opened up the taps and hot water splashed against the bottom of the basin. It pooled underneath Angel's body and caused another freezing lock up of his limbs from the change in temperature and how it stung the more sensitive parts. The spider pulled his legs in with a whimper, his head falling to the side with a hiss through his teeth as his single gold fang glinted in the dim light. The same fang as Valentino.  
Alastor suppressed his urge to scowl again as he reached for what little toiletries Angel had in here. Some cherry-scented bubble bath, no doubt something his friend had gotten him, seemed a fitting choice to use. It was poured onto the slowly rising water, now deep enough to submerge the arachnid to his stomach.  
“Angel?” Alastor spoke up, his low tones shuddering between the reflective surface of the walls as his eyes briefly flicked down to the foam between Angel's legs with an audible swallow. Curse his peculiarities over things like this. “Are you able to... remove your clothing? I would not want to attempt myself, so...”  
“... guess so... ngh...”

Angel shifted weakly around on the spot, the shoulders of his lower arms only just exposed through the bubbles to show they were moving. He closed his eyes again with another sniff and a trembling of his lip, wincing at the discomfort before his remaining clothes floated to the surface of the water.  
Alastor fished them out with his gloves, turning the tap off now that the waterline had just managed to envelop the spider's bust. That would be enough to at least ease his aches.  
“Try and relax, the water will help to accelerate your healing. I shall handle the rest.”  
“...why...”

The question caught Alastor off-guard, a distortion in his frequency whirling between his ears. With the drug that had incapacitated him starting to wear off, Angel had both his upper arms around his legs now, tucking them in close as his face turned dark. His brow had lowered, eyes fixated on the water in front of him as he bit his lower lip hard enough to leave impressions with his teeth. The deer's head tilted to the side with another peak of noise.  
“As I said to you before,” Alastor began, reaching one of his hands forward to begin gently massaging some of the cleaning liquid into the fur on Angel's back. “You know why.”  
“...I ain't worth it...” he growled back lethargically, his darker eye twitching at the pressure on his wounds.  
“You _know_ that isn't true.”  
“That right, huh...”  
“It _is_. Do you think I would be in this position if I didn't think you had any value to me?”

Angel inhaled a little sharper than normal when he felt Alastor hold one of his hands lounging over the edge of the bath. The grip was solid, warm even through the material of those gloves and he instinctively squeezed back harder than he ever had before. Even Alastor was surprised by his strength.  
“Sorry...” he murmured, his scowl threatening to collapse into more weeping despite his pride hanging on to the idea he could remain composed after what happened to him.  
“You have no reason to be,” the Radio Demon hummed, the white noise in his speech slipping away for a passing second as he leaned in closer.  
“I _do_...” Angel insisted, closing his eyes as he barely stopped another well of tears slipping over his face. “Christ, Al... we ain't been at this fer long an'... first thing that happens, I let that... arrogant shithead _use_ me... _again_...”  
“Angel, stop.”  
“Just like every night, after a show or a shoot... demandin' what he wants, usin' that damn smoke an' the drugs an'... I-I don't stop 'im. I can't, I _let_ 'im...! Pathetic! F-Fuckin' cheatin' stupid _whore_ , wh-”  
“ _Enough._ ”

The reverberating power in Alastor's voice shut Angel up almost instantly. He stared at the deer, even as he flubbed and tried to contain his weakness and made his throat ache. The Radio Demon looked tired, slight lines under his eyes from having stretched the limits of his power, but his faint smile was still encouraging all the same. He pulled his other palm away from the spider's back to join in holding a claw.  
“What that vile insect thinks he can get away with doing to you changes _nothing_. Nor is it your fault. You _matter_ to me, Angel. You matter to _others_. And right now, given where we are...”  
Alastor paused. The filters on his voice dissipated as he wanted to make it clear he could follow through on his threat.  
“I can help you. I can make him stop. _Permanently._ ”  
“Don't.”

Alastor hadn't been expecting that reaction, his noises sparking again as he tried to work it out. The spider had interrupted him, his voice wavering with a shake of his head and another tremble of his body as he moved. It didn't make sense. Why would Angel try and defend someone who had abused him like this?  
“You cannot expect me to sit idly by while-”  
“No, _please_ , Al,” Angel insisted, reaching out with another of his hands to clutch between the deer's fingers. “Believe me, I'd want nothin' more than to _kill_ that fucker... make 'im _bleed_ for all the shit he's done. But if Val knows yer involved wi' me, then... h-he'll just use it against ya. I know it...”  
“My dear...”  
“Just... _don't_. I don't wanna risk ya gettin' hurt 'cause o' me...”

Alastor's hardened expression faltered as Angel shifted in the bath, leaning towards their joined together hands and gently nuzzling his cheek against the Radio Demon's gloves. The deer exhaled gently, flexing his fingers a little to run through the pearly white fur on his face. Angel really did like this, didn't he...  
“The only way you could hurt me is if you decided to back out of our little deal, _mon cher,_ ” said the deer. “And I sincerely hope you're not considering that.”  
“No. Never.”  
The conviction in that near instant answer said all it needed to, and Alastor's smile flexed wider than before as Angel finally seemed to be pulling himself out of his dark place. Even if only by a modicum.  
“Enough talk of him,” he decided, releasing one of his hands to stroke down Angel's back to get him to relax back into the water. “I will not go anywhere. Just try and relax, your healing will work better this way.”  
The star nodded weakly, sniffing loudly to try and put the wall back up on his emotions as he sank into the bubbles. His hard squeeze of the Radio Demon's hand lessened a fraction, but remained there all the same.

Maybe this did feel a little better... maybe...

* * *

After what felt like hours, Angel had fought off the after effects of the drug that Valentino had used on him. Though he was still stinging with pain if he moved too quickly, the aches of what else the moth had done had all but gone thanks to the warm water. It was probably the best recovery he'd ever had to this over the years.  
The fact he could say that in reference to other times was definitely not good.  
At any rate, Alastor had remained throughout however long it had been, helped him dress and get ready to sleep after such a chaotic and horrible day. He'd even helped to settle Fat Nuggets down when all was said and done, even if the attempts to control such a loyal pet were a little... awkward.

Angel was now sat in his bed while the Radio Demon had perched on the edge, their hands still connected as the room went quiet. The subtle buzz of the neon pink web light on the wall was all that could be heard, save for Nuggets occasionally snorting in his sleep. For the moment, this was enough.  
As much as he had a reputation for indulging in the most intense pleasures of the flesh, something as simple as feeling Alastor's fingers between his made Angel feel... appreciated. Wanted. And genuinely so in comparison to the fake sugar he now always heard in Valentino's voice. It was just unfortunate that he still wasn't sure whether he deserved it.

Alastor noticed that doubt almost immediately as he sensed the spider's digits twitch for a moment. His tuning noises glitched into being as he turned his head, watching as Angel seemed to be struggling to think of what to say.  
“What is it, darling?”  
Angel's lips twitched at the corners. Damn it, those nicknames were going to be a new weakness for him.  
“...are ya sure yer okay with this? Like... bein' with me, knowin' what I'm roped into...?”  
“You've told me enough about your mortal days to where I know that your work is freeing for you,” Alastor replied honestly. “Being able to express who you are when you couldn't in life isn't a failing. In fact, I could almost sympathise with that given _my_ work...”  
“But, when he... does things to me...” the arachnid started, stumbling over his words. “It's not like I don't wanna get away from 'im. I _hate_ 'im... but I _can't_. When he tries anythin', it's like I... I mean, I feel like I _hafta_ -”  
“I know what he is capable of,” the deer interrupted. “But you enact no betrayal on me for being forced to do things against your will. And as much as you do not want me to insist on it, I will still gladly be a way out for you if it becomes too much.”

Angel blinked, pulling Alastor's hand a little closer to his chest as if to ensure that he was being honest.  
“Ya mean that, huh...”  
“But of course, my dear,” the Radio Demon hummed, his smile exposing his teeth. “I would not be upholding my end of our arrangement otherwise, and my desire to remain a gentleman would _certainly_ not stand for that.”  
The spider broke into his first genuine smile of the day at that, raising up some more of his multiple limbs to clutch the other demon's hand to the fluff spilling out of his shirt.  
“...ya know that deal goes two ways, right? Anyone tries to give ya a hard time, I'll fuck their shit up. Ain't no one messin' with _my_ babe.”  
“I feel safe in saying I'm certain that you would...” Alastor nodded, even as an uncharacteristic flush graced his features as being referred to as Angel's “babe.” Curious... but not unpleasant.

Moving on before he was compromised further, Alastor used soft motions of his hands to urge Angel to lay down properly. The arachnid didn't resist as he was moved to do so, even despite the odd twinge on his features from being made to move his bruised form.  
With his partner now settled in bed, Alastor cleared his throat and adjusted the fit of his collar with a hand, supposing that he should probably leave him in peace given the events of the night. As he rose to his feet from the mattress, he found himself being stopped. Angel was still holding onto him, turned on his side and staring at the Radio Demon from under his blankets.

“...thank you, Al,” he nearly whispered, pulling his covers closer around him.  
“Whenever you need me...” the deer replied, bowing at the waist and bringing the spider's hand close to his lips. It was like he was tempting a kiss of them, but stopped just a few centimetres short. Still not quite past the threshold of that yet.  
Now it was Angel's turn to feel the burn in his face, his boss now banished from his thoughts as he huffed at such stupid... sexy looks and riling him up like that. He pouted his lower lip out, as much as he couldn't hide the gentle smile behind it.  
“Tease...”  
“Consider it you instilling bad habits in me,” Alastor chuckled, giving a parting rub of his thumb over the other demon's knuckles before finally letting it fall away. “Sleep well. Call if you need me.”

And with that, he departed to allow his angel to get some much needed rest.

* * *

“Listen, broad. I dunno who you think you are bargin' in at this time o' night, but I can't just let you waltz on upstairs.”  
“Oh? And how're you gonna stop me, bar cat? Last I checked, this place was open for business and I got business to take care of!”

Husk growled, rubbing his eyes. He'd met with pissy customers in the past when he was at other bars or casinos around the city, but dealing with them himself was certainly not in his best interests. And definitely not ones that were as hot-headed as Cherri Bomb.  
The cyclops had only arrived a few minutes ago, clearly in an agitated state to the point she hadn't even explained the reason she was here. She'd instead decided to take the forceful approach and just demand to go the floors of rooms. Husk had attempted to stop her, being as he was _supposed_ to be manning the front desk as well as the bar, but he was slowly losing his patience and was tempted to just let her in to be shut of it.

“Cherri, just stop for a sec,” Vaggie implored, trying to keep her voice down given the time of night. With Charlie asleep after a busy day, it fell to her to be the 'senior' staff member on hand to deal with any customer complaints and she was surprised to have heard the commotion all the way in the main office. “We're aware that you know one of our patrons, but this isn't some sort of party you can crash when you feel like it. We have rules.”  
Cherri seemed thoroughly unimpressed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.  
“Is that so?”  
“ _Yes_ ,” Vaggie huffed sternly. “We're a _rehab centre_ , which means we have to keep things calm and controlled, especially at night. Your bitching about not getting what you want really isn't helping.”  
“No offence, lady, but try telling someone who gives a shit about any of that,” Cherri grunted, looking at her nails to show her boredom. “I've been running all over the city tonight, so I'm not in a real understanding mood with whatever stupid thing you have going on. You're gonna help me with what I'm looking for or I'll show you _my_ version of calm and controlled.”  
“And what _are_ you looking for exactly?” the moth asked in turn, folding her arms with a roll of her eyes.  
“Angie. Let me see him.”

Vaggie's eyes widened for a moment at the demand. As far as she knew, those two were never _not_ in contact with each other in some shape or form. For Cherri to have lost track of him was very out of the norm.  
“You think Angel's here? Shouldn't he be at work?”  
“You tell me,” the cyclops insisted, reaching into her pocket and fishing out her phone. “Last message I got from him was asking for help, then he went silent. I've heard _nothing_ from him for hours. I've checked all of the usual places he could go on a night and none of them have seen him. You're the last port of call.”  
Vaggie blinked. This was more serious than she thought.  
“We've... had no contact since we had to let him go to the Studio, since demonic contracts aren't easily breakable and all...”  
“Yeah, and he ain't there either! So let me go upstairs and see him!”  
“Cherri, Angel hasn't come through this way all night. If he's anywhere, he's probably still-”  
“Don't fuck with me right now!” she yelled, cutting Vaggie off with an accusing glare and finger jab. “This is the _only_ place he has left to go, he _has_ to be here...!”

Vaggie would usually find such stubbornness beyond irritating in the same way that Angel would flaunt without a care in the world. But something about this was different. As angry as she sounded, the hesitation in the last few words Cherri spoke hinted the cyclops wasn't just letting her rage out. She sounded concerned. Worried out of her mind.  
But the moth also wasn't lying either. As far as she knew from both Husk's eyes and watching things herself, Angel had yet to come back to the Hotel after leaving for work. Unless he'd somehow snuck back in, which wouldn't make any sense, there was no way he'd be in his room.  
“So?” Cherri blared. “You gonna let me see him or am I going to have to blow this place sky high?!”  
“I doubt that will be necessary.”

A voice from behind the trio cut the conversation short, causing all of them to look towards the stairs at the owner. Alastor had just made himself known, descending the flight with the faint chords of Turner Layton buzzing in the air around him. He reached the ground floor, looking between the three demons in turn with his infamous charming grin.  
“Welp, this ain't gonna end well...” Husk grumbled from behind them, choosing to return to the bottle rather than get further involved.  
“What are _you_ doing here?” Vaggie asked in suspicion, turning her steely gaze upon the Radio Demon as he merely rolled his shoulders softly.  
“Come now, dear, you _know_ that you have a problem with volume. How would I _not_ be able to hear you and investigate the commotion?”  
“You're shitting me, right...?”

Alastor's focus switched near instantaneously to Cherri as the cyclops took a step back. Clearly she had not been expecting to see him here to greet her, but he would keep things civil all the same. Not only because of her importance to Angel, but also because he partially admired her dedication to chaos. He bowed in her direction.  
“Delighted to meet you in person, Miss Cherri!” he announced, standing upright with a flurry of audience sound effects. She seemed less than courteous with what she said back.  
“You have the fucking _Radio Demon_ checked in here?!”  
“Not quite, though I do have an investment in this place of sorts. Is there something we can help you with?”  
“...yeah. Yeah, maybe there is,” she decided, shifting all her attention to him. “How about you get these two chumps outta my face so I can go see Angie?”

Alastor's smile widened a fraction. It was rare to come across a demon who didn't run for the hills from him these days. She really didn't have any fear when it came to getting what she wanted, did she? Now he could see why Angel considered her a friend more so than before.  
Instead of obliging her request however, Alastor instead motioned with his hand off to the side, down one of the ground floor corridors towards his office.  
“I believe we should talk instead, my dear. I'll give you your answers if you'd like to follow me.”  
“Pft, yeah right. Trying to cut some sort of deal with me because you can?”  
“Wouldn't dream of it! Mostly because I don't tend to sleep very often anyway.“

Cherri frowned as a burst of laugh tracks emphasised the joke, her eye narrowing at Alastor as he once again insisted she follow him. She didn't trust it, for obvious reasons of who the man was, but he was at least being more helpful that the other two stuck up Hotel staff.  
She made up her mind and started to follow him as a slow pace, glaring at Vaggie as she passed by.  
“Work on the customer service,” she grumbled, purposely nudging the moth in the shoulder and eliciting a growl of annoyance out of her.

Totally worth it.


	2. The Set-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when trying to be discreet, the Radio Demon very rarely does things unnoticed. And Valentino noticed what happened that night at the Studio. And so begins the spinning of a web to ensnare his little spider back where he belongs. All it would take would be a little bit of... misdirection.

Cherri's intense gaze wandered now she was stood inside Alastor's office. The place seemed just as well furnished and styled as the bits of the Hotel she'd seen already, giving her a better understanding of what the Radio Demon's 'investment' in this place was. As the deer closed the door behind them and came round to face her properly, she folded her arms as Alastor rested his hands behind his back.  
“So you gonna tell me why you dragged me in here? You don't look like the casting couch type.”  
“Perish the thought, _please_ ,” Alastor replied, a snippet of feedback punctuating his distaste for that image. “The reason why is two-fold. One, to stop you causing a calamity that, while probably very entertaining, would be _bad_ for continued business. And, secondly, to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. Angel is safe.”

Cherri's tough exterior started to ease off as she let her arms fall down hearing that. Her expression softened as she stepped towards the Radio Demon, urging him to clarify.  
“Where is he?”  
“He's upstairs, sleeping,” the deer explained. “I brought him back here when I discovered him and saw your messages on that... contraption he uses. I could tell you were very concerned.”  
“...yeah,” she murmured, turning away as she ran her hands through her mass of blonde hair. “Shit... I can't believe I was so bad at finding him tonight. I should be better than that...”  
“No need to fret on it. I've taken care of everything.”  
“So you know what happened?” Cherri asked, spinning back to look at Alastor. The Radio Demon's smile twitched at remembering.  
“Valentino happened.”

Cherri let out a frustrated sigh. Of course it was. Whenever Angel had been in trouble for almost as long as she'd known him, the boss was the problem. As much as she did what she could to help, she was still limited in what she could pull off, yet alone trying to break that damned contract.  
“I swear, if he wasn't an overlord, I'd have turned that bastard to ash years ago...” she hissed, catching Alastor's attention with a tweak of his ear. He didn't like how that sounded.  
“This is not the first time this has occurred.”  
“No. It's been happening for years. And I've _always_ been there to help him when... Ugh, that slimy _fucker_ just thinking he can do what he wants, just because he's got that Studio!”  
  
The cyclops's fingers flexed as she tightened her folded arms. She needed to make up for her failure this evening, some way to help Angie out... A sudden spark of an idea went off in her head like one of her signature bombs, sole eye locking onto Alastor like a target. Maybe she _could_ get something out of this if she played it right.  
“You know. Since the opportunity to chat with the _Radio Demon_ doesn't come up very often, part of me wonders what it'd take to get _you_ to handle it...” she mused. “I know what you can do. I've heard the reports and what you've broadcast before. That rat wouldn't stand a chance.”  
“I'm afraid I would be of little help to you with that,” the deer replied, reaffirming his stance.  
“Why not? You need paying or something? Name the price, I'll get what you want.”

Despite Cherri's eagerness to make a deal of her own and offer what it took to help her friend, Alastor's smile lost a hint of strength as his focus drifted to the floor. In all honesty, he _wanted_ to go along with her suggestion in retaliation for tonight, more strongly than he'd ever admit to make Valentino pay for his role in this nasty business.  
But Angel had told him not to. He didn't want Alastor doing anything drastic for fear of getting mixed up in the affairs of his boss. Going against his partner's wishes wouldn't feel proper and, despite being aware of Valentino's powers, the Radio Demon didn't know much else of the pimp's connections and influence apart from being associates of some kind with Vox. Too many unknowns.  
  
“It's the impact on the hierarchy, I'm afraid,” he feigned, finding it the best excuse he could come up with to avoid raising suspicion. “As much as I would like to, besting Valentino would leave too much of a power vacuum in his wake given his influence on the 'industry'. Someone else could take the reins easily, someone worse. I may be renowned for toppling this realm's most powerful, but I don't do so without considering the implications.”  
“Right, of course...” Cherri sighed, resting her weight on her opposite foot as if the wind had been knocked out of her sails. She didn't get involved in politics, so she just had to believe him. “Sorry. It's just... what that asshole does makes me so _mad_. Angie _trusted_ him. Said he'd never felt more like himself when he first signed on, like he'd found someone who actually gave a damn despite being sent down here. But then Valentino started getting greedier. Demanding. And just taking what he wanted...”

She stopped, almost like she was surprised to have caught herself blabbing about such matters.  
“Wait... why the hell am I telling _you_ this?”  
Alastor gently rolled his shoulders, leaning back against his desk in a bit of a relaxed manner, complimented by a tuning sound.  
“Venting? Besides, you're not telling me what I don't already know.”  
“And _why_ do you already know?”  
“Because Angel has told me. Or has at least inferred it through what he hasn't. We've spoken about a lot as of late.”

Cherri's eye narrowed in suspicion. Angel was on good enough speaking terms to say that with this guy? It wasn't like she wasn't thankful for the Radio Demon helping out her best friend, but now she was considering his reasons of being there in the first place more. From her earlier quip, it was clear this infamous demon was not exactly with modern times, nor was he very comfortable about the sort of work Angel indulged in.  
Yet, despite what she expected from a creature with his sort of infamy, he was very much a gentleman when he was speaking to her. If it weren't his creepy noises, she'd almost say he was...  
Wait.  
A prude. A gentleman. A 'guest' at the Hotel. And he'd been speaking with Angel a lot. It was like a million light bulbs were going off all at once as it suddenly clicked. She snapped her fingers.

“Holy shit, it's _you!_ ”  
Alastor blinked.  
“I'm sorry?”  
“The _guy!_ The guy at the Hotel Angie was talking about! Shit, I knew it had to be someone important, but I had no idea it was _you!_ ”  
“I'm afraid I'm not following you...” the Radio Demon commented, arching a brow up as if to ask Cherri to make it clear what she meant.  
“He told me when we were hanging out, not that long ago! He said you two were... a _thing_. Like, you were going out and stuff! Is that right?!”

Alastor's eyes widened and his ears bristled upright as the proverbial cat was let out of the bag. Of course he should have expected Angel to tell one of his only true friends about them. He just hadn't expected to be confronted with it after tonight. He cleared his throat and adjusted the fit of his waistcoat to try and retain a professional aura, supposing there was no sense trying to deny it around her now.  
“We are... in an arrangement, yes. And I would appreciate that fact being kept _out_ of the other's earshots for both our sakes...”  
“Oh, _damn,_ man!” Cherri snickered, exposing her teeth. “I knew he scored big, but I never imagined _this_ big!”  
“This is _not_ something to brag about with this... 'scoring' palaver!” Alastor growled, the air shivering with his static to shut her down. But the cyclops didn't even flinch.  
“Oh, he wasn't bragging when he told me, believe me. More than anything, he looked so... happy.”

Alastor's fluster faded. Cherri's own voice turned softer as she explained, knowing that what she was saying was going to be confidential. But if anyone could hear it, surely Angel's partner could.  
“When he was talking about you, his whole face was lit up. He was so grateful that you took a chance on him after that pimp's beaten into him that he isn't worth it. Add the fact that you saved him tonight when I couldn't and, well... I guess I should be thanking you.”  
The Radio Demon's smile widened again. He was... glad to hear from someone else that he meant such a great amount to Angel. And Angel himself obviously was just as important to him, even at the very early stages of their agreement.  
“I was pleased to help. There is a lot more about him to admire than what his looks may imply. I just wish that he could see it more.”  
“Well, I'm glad someone else does. That means a lot to me too.”

Cherri then stepped forward towards Alastor. Her arms were still folded as she took a moment to think of what to say, looking up at the taller demon with an intense focus in her single red eye.  
“Alright. If you say he's safe and resting, then I believe you. I'll leave him be and talk to him tomorrow. But if this is where this conversation's gonna end, then I'm gonna have to leave you with a warning.”  
Alastor smirked, almost as if the idea of someone threatening him was a joke at this point.  
“I'm afraid you wouldn't be able t-”

  
“Quiet, radio boy,” Cherri interrupted, actually causing him to go silent as she pointed right at his face. “This shit matters more to Angel than he'll _ever_ tell anyone. I know what he's been through more than you do and I also know how much you mean to him now you're trying to make this work. _Don't screw it up_. Because if I even get so much as a sad face from him about you, I'll blow your raggedy ass out like a busted speaker. You hear?!”  
Alastor chuckled low, adjusting his monocle.  
“Well, with such impressive words as that, how can I refuse?”  
“I'm being serious!” the cyclops growled. “I don't care that you're the Radio Demon, I'll still come after you!”  
“I'm sure you would. But I shall make this crystal clear,” he replied, his tone now losing all of the jovial tone to it. “I _will_ make the effort. I assure you of that.”

Cherri seemed to find that... acceptable, taking a step away from him. She supposed that the Radio Demon of all people would stick to his intentions given what he'd been able to achieve over his tenure down here.  
“Good,” she exhaled, turning around to head towards the door, only stopping when she reached out to open it. “I guess I'll be seein' ya more often now, Radiohead,” she commented, shooting him a grin as if a switch had been flipped on her mood around him. “Think you could swing me free entrance to this place to bypass that bullshit out front?”  
“I suppose we could work something out, my dear,” Alastor replied, nodding his head at the cyclops as she cackled on her way out. As the door closed behind her, the deer supposed that he had more than just Angel's happiness as a reason to make this affair prosper. Now he also had a pyromaniac bestie to contend with in case he stepped out of line.

Life as the Radio Demon was starting to become eventful again, wasn't it?

* * *

Valentino was _pissed_.

He shouldn't be and he knew it. After all, he'd gotten exactly what he'd wanted today during the working hours of the Studio from both from a business and personal perspective. He'd had some long standing debts sorted and paid to him, he had a new production just about to be wrapped up, and he'd been able to indulge himself in some more personal time with Angel Cakes. Even if that had taken a bit more... persuasion than normal.  
But rather than riding the highs of having his desires sated, the moth couldn't relax. The fact he was chain-smoking like a mother said it all. His grip on his cigarette was tense, claws threatening to tear through the soft outer shell, while his foot tapped against the floor like he was struggling to stay still with his annoyance. And it was something that was starting to wear thin on Vox.  
The tech demon rolled his eyes as Valentino huffed another great amount of red smoke into the air. He'd had a gut feeling that heeding the pimp's request for their time together tonight would be a bad idea, for reasons he hadn't been able to work out until now. He just hadn't anticipated it being _this_ bad, especially over something as simple as a video.

It should've been simple, given how it was something Val had wanted many times before now. The two overlords were in the boss' office, 'reviewing' footage of the day to ensure the edit of the final cuts to the upcoming features would be clean. One of the main reasons having Vox around was good was that he was useful in that department given his technological powers. As well as being hot company.  
Everything had been going well until Val had gotten bored of the business and wanted something more in line with his libido's requests. He'd asked to rewatch a particular clip, specifically the security feeds of what he'd done with his favourite star tonight. Something about poor little Angel being so _powerless_ was... mmm....  
But things had turned sour quickly after that. As Vox had been ready to rewind the video on the holographic screen he'd projected to savour the hot stuff too, Val had stopped him. Something had caught his eye.

Right at the end, just before he would've cut off the excess and saved the feed for his personal collection, he'd noticed the door opening _after_ he'd left Angel on the floor. He was certain he hadn't heard anyone behind him at the time and his security had reported nothing. Yet, lo and behold, someone showed up. The fucking _Radio Demon_ had waltzed on in and spirited the spider away without a care in the world.  
That hadn't gone down well. After an angry shouting tirade and an order to 'replace' his security staff for ones that were more competent, things had gone quiet. Yet the anger was simmering underneath the pimp's exterior, something that Vox could sense from the tension in the taller demon's body.  
It didn't take him long to decide that this wasn't a good thing to keep staring at and he twitched his hand to dismiss the display just as Val exhaled another puff of vapour. The taller demon tried to lean back into the lounging seat they were both next to each other on, baring his teeth.

“I _knew_ it'd only be a matter of time before that pompous fuck came down and started buttin' his nose into my business...” he growled.  
“Then why are you so annoyed about it if you expected it?” asked Vox, trying to be somewhat light hearted to keep things calm. At least, until Val's eyes flashed at him.  
“'Cause he's touchin' what belongs to me. And _I don't like that._ ”  
“I'm sure it doesn't mean anything,” the tech demon reasoned. “You know from what that prick's done over the years that he's only interested in doing stuff that gives him a thrill. Your spider's done that to plenty of guys anyway, why would he be any different?”  
“I'd be inclined to agree if I hadn't seen them together on a little _dinner dat_ e not so long ago. And now that smarmy asshole struts into _my_ turf, thinking he could keep Angel Cakes to himself...”

Val exhaled to try and calm himself down, an upper arm stretching out to tug Vox a little bit closer to him That was a clear sign he was stressed if he was being needy for something so simple and it was something Vox allowed with a subtle shifting on the spot himself. Despite his frustration at how forceful the moth could be at times, they were still together in some capacity. Best to just let him speak his mind.  
“I _let_ that little bitch go to that stupid hotel, stay in his own place for a bit in order to keep him sweet and obedient,” the moth hummed. “And then _this_ shit happens. If the Radio Demon's involved there now, and Angel's tryin' to pull a fast one on me by gettin' with him-”  
“Then it doesn't matter,” Vox interrupted. “Val, remember you have a contract with him that he _can't break_. Even if Angel managed to start getting down and dirty with the radio freak, what good would it do him? He's still yours.”  
“That's not the question we should be askin',” the pimp huffed, pulling his arms away from the other male and standing up from the seat. He folded his arms. “If we have the deer knockin' on our door 'cause he doesn't like the way we treat the merchandise, then that's not gonna end well. Angel Cakes might be powerless, but that guy _ain't._ ”

Valentino wiped his lip with a thumb, brushing away a drooling of red liquid that made up the basis of his charm. His eyes narrowed behind the rim of his glasses, determined to think of a way to stop this before it started. But how? As much as he hated to admit it, what the Radio Demon had said back at the restaurant was true. Going head to head wasn't a good idea.  
“We need to nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand. Make that guy back off _and_ get Angel back where he belongs with me.”  
“And how do you expect to do that?” Vox asked, folding his arms too as a suspicious look flashed upon his screen. “And, sorry to ask, but what's with this ' _we_ need to do something' shit?”  
“Aw, Voxy, baby. You ain't gonna hold out on me, are you?” Valentino purred, turning back around and making a deliberately slow pace to the other overlord.

Vox blinked, leaning back a fraction with a glitch of interference crossing his features as Val reached a hand out to stroke around the base of his neck. Vox shivered. Curse the intensity of his charming power.  
“You're gonna help me out again, right? I promise I can make it worth your while...”  
“Spare me the lines you use on your whores, Val,” the tech demon shot back, crossing his legs over to maintain his cool. “Just tell me what you think my interest in getting your cash cow back is. I'm curious.”  
“Think about it. You help me get what's mine back under my roof, and I give you a chance to stick it to Radiohead in return. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”  
“You _know_ I would. But that doesn't mean I wanna be _stupid_ about it and rush into this without details. What exactly do you think I could do?”

Val snickered as he sat back down next to his partner, using both of his right arms to coil around Vox's thin frame and pull him nice and snug until they were touching.  
“Manipulatin' information is your 'thing', right? I'm sure that all it'll take will be a fraction of what you're good at and we'll have ourselves a poor little itsy bitsy who'll think the only place he's still wanted is back in Daddy's lap...”  
“And the Radio Demon?”  
“If he's genuinely tryin' somethin' with Angel Cakes, then he's gonna be in a real bad state if they break it off. Anythin' you do after that is your gain. He's gonna be compromised, he won't be thinkin' clearly and he'll get sloppy if he tries anythin' in a fight. Ripe for the takin'.”

Vox's sceptical frown remained persistent on his screen, though he couldn't deny that it made logical sense. If Val's whore and the Radio Demon were a thing, then that also meant they were each other's weakness. Taking one of them out would easily affect the other, and if it got Alastor in the perfect position to finally be defeated...  
“Maybe you have a point.”  
“I always do. Whaddya say, baby?” Val asked again, ensuring to keep his partner close and leaning in close enough to fog up the screen. “I know you could do it for me...”  
“...if this doesn't work, you owe me,” Vox clarified after some silence, arching a brow towards the taller male. “Just make sure you give me the right stuff to work with.”  
“Glad you see it my way, sugar. And speakin' of sugar... how about you give _me_ some to make up for tonight, hm?”

Before Vox had a moment to protest what he wanted, Valentino's vibrations suddenly shuddered through his body, causing the display of his face to momentarily jitter and lock up from how powerful they were. The moth's drooling tongue slid out of his mouth, gently dabbing against the tech demon's neck and making him cringe. And shudder rather intensely with a clear amount of distortion on his 'cheeks'.  
“Ugh... you're _insatiable_...” he said with a stuttering of his vocal noise.  
“And your ass looks _real_ nice wearin' leather. But I'm not into statin' the obvious right now...”  
“Are you serious?!”  
“Come on, I know those vids got you hot and bothered too...”  
“ _Fuck_ , if I say yes, will you _please_ stop talking like that?!” the tech demon grunted, turning in place to better face the wide grin of the insect. Valentino's hands slid down Vox's back in return, going right for his intended prize with a squeeze.

“Love you too, baby.”

* * *

“NO!”

Angel screamed as he jolted upright, claws immediately clutching towards the left side of his face as if to shield himself. He braced for the disgust, for the sickening feeling of moth drool sliding over his cheeks, the feeling of clawed hands clutching his rear as a warning to brace himself, just like he had done befor-  
Wait.  
He blinked. He wasn't in the Studio. And no one was touching him.

When the conscious part of his brain caught up in seeing that the room wasn't the same, he realised there was no hulking moth looming over him too. Instead, the dim light from his web wall light was illuminating pale pink walls and his bedsheets that had been tossed off in his panic.  
He was sat in bed in his room at the Hotel, topless, clad in only underwear and long socks beneath the covers. He didn't know what time it was, but the remnants of the aches from yesterday meant it couldn't have been that long since he fell asleep. He gradually lowered his hands away from his face while his lower pair pulled the blankets closer, his fluffy chest rapidly expanding and shrinking as he tried to calm himself down.  
Focus, get back to reality. It must have been just a dream. Or another bad memory...  
  
“Angel? Are you alright?”  
The voice of a certain someone jerked the spider from his stupor with a yelp. Angel flinched in shock as he glanced to his side to see Alastor stood at his bedside, leaning forward at the waist with a tilt of his head. The Radio Demon was dressed in a red striped shirt with rolled up sleeves, dark brown trousers, and his reading glasses perched on his nose replacing his monocle.  
“Al...” Angel managed to get out, sighing in relief that it wasn't who he thought was here just a moment ago. “Christ, ya nearly scared me to second death...”  
“That would be a first, even for me!” the deer quipped back with an accompanying sound bite. “But I apologise. You just appeared to wake with quite a start so I wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?”

Right now, the noise the demon was creating was helping to get rid of the memory of yesterday, a blend of tuning radios and distorted melodies relaxing Angel down from the anxiety spike of the dream. Maybe it wasn't soothing to others, but it was to him somehow.  
With his permanent grin still stretched almost ear to ear, Alastor's brow creased into what could almost pass for concern if one looked hard enough, his eyes wandering over the other male's body to check whether he'd hurt himself. Angel snapped back to attention remembering he was expecting an answer.  
“I'm fine,” he answered quickly, averting his eyes from the deer and instead focusing on his frantically fidgeting hands clawing against the blanket. “Sorry... just a bad dream.”

The Radio Demon hummed with a slight creasing of his features, perching himself on the edge of the bed and twisting his thin body to better face the spider. He hesitated for a moment before he reached out a hand to touch Angel's shoulder. Even though the other demon twitched at the unexpected touch, he didn't resist it. Good. Alastor had come to greatly appreciate the feeling of the spider's fur underneath his palm as of late.  
“You are sure that is all? I will not force you to speak if you really do not wish to, but I would greatly prefer the truth.”  
“I'm okay, Al,” the arachnid assured him, relaxing his hold on his blankets to grab the deer's hand instead. “'specially after what ya did for me last night.”  
Though Alastor briefly twitched from the sudden touch without warning, he suppressed it with a gentle grin.  
“Think nothing of it, darling. I am simply glad you're safe.”

Angel's smile stretched out wide across his face. Part of him wanted to make sure he wasn't still dreaming, strange as it was to consider what was going on. When he really stopped to think about it, it sounded _ludicrous_. Having a tender moment in a hotel room with one of Hell's most powerful and infamous beings? It sounded like a bad soap opera plot.  
But it was clearly far from fiction when he had Alastor's hands entwined with his own like this, when the deer had made an effort to be here for when he woke up. The spider's heart fluttered knowing that, letting out a content sigh as his hands tightened around the other's. Almost without thinking, he'd leaned in closer, causing Alastor to blink with a startled twitch when he realised just _how_ close his partner was getting.

“Um... A-Angel?”  
“Huh?” the spider asked, tilting his head as if to enquire what the problem was. His mismatched eyes scanned over Alastor's features and he felt a sting of regret at what he saw. The deer was starting to flush, his ears pricked up as his upper lip curled and the air around him tingled with static to the point it was making the star's fur stand on end.  
“Oh! Uh... shit!” Angel winced, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head with a free limb as he pulled away. “Sorry, guess I was kinda on auto there, huh...?”  
“No, no, it's fine, I...” said Alastor, using his opposite hand to gesture away the notion dismissively. “ _I_ should apologise. This is still taking some... getting used to.”  
“Hey, babe, it's okay...” the spider cooed, pulling the deer's hand close again. “I promised I wouldn't rush nothin', yeah? Ya've just done so much for me with all the crap I get caught up in that I just... kinda ran away with it... I'll try harder.”

Alastor seemed to accept his reasoning, subtly rubbing the underside of his thumb against Angel's knuckles. But, as much as he greatly appreciated Angel's boundless patience when it came to doing anything more than just holding hands, that little slip up was only a reminder than the prospect of more _was_ going to come to them sooner or later.  
The Radio Demon knew he would not be able to simply shy away from it forever. That was something he learned trying to set this whole thing up in the first place. Besides, it wasn't like Angel hadn't done _far_ worse than just touch his hand in this place. Even their very first conversation had gone beyond the bounds of what he thought was decent, even down here...  
Furthermore, his conversation with Cherri yesterday had made things much clearer. He promised he would make the effort, for Angel's sake after what he had gone through over the years. If that meant having to step outside his well-defined comfort zones, well... then that was the price he had to pay. He supposed... this was going to be tough.

“Well...” Alastor suddenly started, his eyes falling to the floor as blush raged hard in contrast to his light skin. “I... wouldn't want you to feel as though you couldn't...ah, I mean, with... regards to... um...”  
Angel looked puzzled. It had been one thing to see Alastor get flustered over an implication of something close in the past, but this was probably the worst he'd ever seen it, and seemingly out of nowhere. Since when did the _Radio Demon_ ever stumble over his words _this_ severely?  
“Al?”  
The curious gaze of the arachnid seemed to snap Alastor out of his little stupor when he felt those eyes burning into him, like Angel was expecting some sort of explanation. He inhaled sharply to steel himself.

“What I mean is that... if you wished to... then, I could allow... “ He paused, trying to think of the right way to phrase it. Why the devil was this so difficult? “What you did before... after we returned from the Club...”  
“Wait...” Angel murmured, thinking back to that evening. Was he talking about... His face lit up like a Christmas tree when it clicked, suddenly coming over all giddy. “Al! Ya'd really be okay with that?”  
“In _private_...” he stressed, his unheld hand tensing against the fabric of his trousers. “And _not_ whenever you see fit! I do not wish to be caught off guard by your need for... physical handling and...the like...”

When he sighed at realising how he was trying to reduce such an important milestone to mere technicalities, Alastor was surprised to find he was only met with Angel's feminine giggles and a much more insistent hold of his hand in response. Indeed, two of the spider's limbs had now coiled around his own and had pulled him in to be touching the thick chest fur.  
As the deer's face seemed to be on fire from how hot it burned on now, he could see his partner fluttering his eyes with a low husk to his voice out of the corner of his eye.  
“Can I do it now? If yer really okay with it, can I?”  
Alastor huffed in mild frustration at how Angel sounded like a child begging for something from a candy store with that tone, but... he didn't say no. Instead, he supposed he'd put himself into this situation by trying to make an effort, so he couldn't back out now.  
“...just once. And for no more than _3 seconds_. Understood?”

Angel's smile was now so wide it was starting to ache the corners of his mouth. Alastor's by contrast was wavering as he stared straight ahead away from the arachnid's slowly approaching form. It was frankly embarrassing. To be so on edge from a mere peck on the cheek that he'd _already_ been subjected to before... ridiculous!  
Then again, that last one hadn't been done with their current importance to one another in mind. He could sense Angel coming closer to him, agonisingly slowly... or was it? Maybe it just felt like it was taking an eternity because of the anticipation. The air around him almost crackled with feedback, his eyes flaring with light as his breathing became heavy and strained through his clenched teeth.  
And then he felt it.  
Angel's lips pressed against the burning skin of his cheek. And his entire body locked up in response. His heart was thumping so hard in his chest, he was sure that the arachnid would be able to feel it through their connection. And yet it wasn't totally unpleasant. In fact, after that initial shock, he found himself actually... _adjusting_ to it. And the way that Angel's hold on him squeezed tighter said all it needed to about how the other felt.

And then, as quickly as it had started, his partner pulled away. Alastor was left with the same tingling heat as before in the aftermath of their date, but he wasn't a jabbering and weak-kneed wreck. If anything, the rush of being subjected to it almost make it hard to move for being _too_ stiff in his limbs rather than losing strength. Angel snickered, still ensnaring Alastor's arm with his own pair as if to check the 'damage'.  
“See? That weren't so bad, huh?”  
“...no, i-it...” the deer started, finally blinking after being completely frozen for a good minute. “It was... warm. And... interesting... I suppose...”  
“An' ya handled it like a champ...” the star giggled, cuddling the deer's arm against his chest and nuzzling the top of his shoulder in a very uncharacteristic display of affection. “Thanks, baby~”  
“It was... no problem at all, darling...”

The room turned silent save for the lingering buzz of radio noise still fluttering between Alastor's ears. Doubtless that wasn't going to fade away any time soon. It was another full minute or so before Angel finally let his 'prey' go, allowing the deer to exhale hard before he stood up. The spider giggled again, baring his teeth.  
“Ya need a bit to cool down?”  
“N-No! No, I shall be fine...” the Radio Demon insisted. “I should be considering getting us something to eat before it's too late in the morning anyway...”  
“Aw, a mornin' kiss _and_ breakfast in bed? Ain't I snagged a real sweetheart...~”  
“ _Please_ do not make me regret allowing you to do that...” he growled with a fold of his arms, though the fact his face was still the same shade as his hair proved he wasn't being serious.  
“Just teasin', babe,” Angel giggled, brushing aside his flirtiness now he was starting to near the edges of the deer's tolerance. “Seriously, though. I know you doin' that was a real big thing for ya... an' I'm real happy ya let me.”  
“Yes, well... you provide stellar inspiration sometimes,” Alastor reasoned, clearing his throat to try and get back into working order. “And it wasn't... a bad experience. Quite... novel, you might say...”  
He shook his head as Angel smirked at his formality again. He had to get calm, wouldn't do to show a lack of composure around the other Hotel guests and staff.

Alastor turned away to look in the mirror on Angel's dressing table and straighten his clothes, hoping to at least have some of this damned colour in his face gone by the time he got downstairs. He looked over his shoulder.  
“Just know that if you mention this to anyone, I'll _eat you alive_. And _not_ in the way you're undoubtedly thinking up to make a joke over...”  
“Heard ya loud an' clear, sir,” Angel beamed with another giggle, idly kicking his legs around under his blankets as if he hadn't been in this kind of genuine good mood for a long time. Seeing that caused Alastor's expression to soften. It was so... endearing, seeing him smile like that. He wanted to make sure he saw it more often.  
“I shall return when I can. I assume you want your usual?”  
“Ya know it, Smiles. An' a lil' bit for-”  
“The pig, yes. I didn't forget. I shan't be long, dear.”

Alastor bowed at the waist before he walked towards the door, keeping eye contact with Angel for as long as he could before he shut it behind him. The moment the lock clicked, Angel suddenly squealed to himself, bunching up his blankets and burying his face into them to try and muffle his dumb noises.  
Embarrassing or not to be this mushy over something so small, he couldn't contain it. Holy shit, he'd _kissed_ him! Properly and not in some stupid awkward mess like before! Sure, just one on the cheek, but imagining that happening a few weeks ago had been _unfathomable_.  
He _had_ to tell Cherri. He knew Al had said not to spread it around, and he wouldn't. But surely his bestie could at least be kept in the loop about how things were going? Besides, when those two surely met, they'd get on like a house on fire. Quite literally if they had anything to say about it...

Angel reached for his phone on the small dresser by the side of his bed, flicking his sharp fingertips against the screen to open his messages. He noticed that Cherri had sent more than a few to him last night when he hadn't responded, his face creasing a little thinking of the state she must've got into over him. He should probably explain things before gushing to her.  
But before the star had a chance to even open Cherri's name on the contacts, his phone pinged with a new message from someone else. His smile dissipated almost instantaneously at seeing the sender's name.

_moth_pimp – 10:03AM  
_ **Hey, Angie baby <3 Think you feel up to comin' in to see me today?**

Angel growled, his hands tensing against his device and he started to type back with an annoyed narrowing of his eyes. No. No, he was _not_ going to let the boss ruin this for him today, typing back a scathing to-the-point response before his head had a chance to stop him.

_angie_fluffy_bootz – 10:03 AM  
_ **i shot what ya wanted yesterday, its my day off**

Maybe saying this would get him in more trouble for speaking out of turn or mouthing back to the pimp, but he didn't care. With Alastor as his partner, he felt brave enough to at least try and be a bit of a thorn in the overlord's side with what little he could get away with. Fuck knows it was the least of what Valentino deserved.  
But instead of getting a typical warning against running his mouth or not doing what he wanted, Angel was instead presented with something that actually caught him off guard when the reply came back. A side to Valentino that he hadn't witnessed in literal _decades_.

_moth_pimp – 10:04 AM  
_ **Not for work, sugar, I just wanna see you. Maybe we can meet for lunch? My treat.**

Angel wasn't sure whether to feel disgusted or confused. Maybe a bit of both. Either Valentino had just grown so confident in his talent for abuse that he thought he could get away with just _inviting_ his prize whore back for more, or... or he was acting like he used to. Back when they first met.  
He didn't buy it. Those days were long gone, replaced by years of treating him like a thing to earn him money and get off on. He started typing back again fuelled by his emotions, refusing to consider anything else apart from this being a trick.

_angie_fluffy_bootz – 10:04 AM  
_ **really not up for that today val**

_moth_pimp – 10:04 AM_   
**It's alright, no pressure hun. Just come by when you're feelin' better, 'kay? Miss you, Angel Cakes~**

Angel lowered the phone away from his face, allowing it to sit on the blankets in his lap. No... something about this wasn't right at all. He was used to Valentino being good at putting on the charm, on faking sincere affection and interest just to get what he wanted. But it was always temporary, always something that could easily be shattered when he didn't get his way.  
But the fact that the moth was keeping up this act, even after being bluntly turned down, was weird. _Very_ weird. Even trying to push it out of his mind, the spider couldn't stop pondering it. The timing had been too convenient, sending the message just as he was left on his own so he wouldn't be distracted...  
He turned the phone off and set it down on the dresser. Telling Cherri could wait since he didn't want to risk getting even more of that bullshit sent to him. He had better things to do than fall for the fake honey again, sliding out of his bed to consider what he should wear today.

But he didn't notice his phone screen briefly crackle with the image of a particular demon's intense eye.


	3. Step One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel knew he shouldn't have decided to meet him there again after all this time. Even just contemplating a dialogue with that monster was something that his instincts knew was a bad idea. But in the end, it always comes down to one small mistake. And that's precisely what was needed to begin Step One.

He should've left it alone.

It had been a few days since the messages from Valentino had come through, the ones dripping with deceptive nostalgia in order to trick him. He could feel it in his bones. An attempt to keep him sweet, just like the promises of gifts and protection that had lured him into the Studio's employ in the first place.  
But nothing else had been sent through since then. And that bothered Angel, more than it should have done. If he was being smart about this, he would've removed it from his thoughts and ignored it, written them off and focused on things more important to him instead. His boss didn't deserve any kind of consideration.  
Yet, the longer time had passed without some sort of demand or order to get back to work, the worse he felt about it. It made him feel uneasy, like he was sitting on a powder keg, unsure of whether or not the fuse had been lit so that it would catch him with his guard down when it finally went off. Something in him yearned for an answer to stop these stupid nerves messing him up.  
Either that, or Valentino's power of influence on him was just as strong as it ever was.

He knew Alastor would be chastising him for doing this. Hell, he was chastising _himself_ for doing it too. But as Angel's heels clacked against the pavement, he was determined that this would not be the same as last time. They were going to be meeting on neutral ground, and he had come prepared. This was going to go no further than a conversation.  
Angel's pace was brisk and to the point. He was clad in a purple crop top, one side slipped off his shoulders and pulled taught around his chest. Denim shorts and his signature boots were there too, most of it framed beneath an open white coat that hung off his shoulders. With a feathered trilby completing the look, he saw his target.

It was on the outskirts of the Crimson Districts, a small little place specialising in fancy cocktails and light snacks. _Spider's Kiss_. Irony when it came to his demonic form aside, it made sense since they actually did sell that drink here. And because this was where they'd first had an official meeting all those years ago.  
He hadn't sent any messages or said anything to his boss. He just had a feeling that the pimp would show up here if he was serious about this 'lunch' shit. If Val was going to choose anywhere to meet, it would be here. He still didn't buy it despite that conviction, his lip curling up as his gaze wandered over the cafe exterior. He almost didn't realise that the other demon was sat there at first.

But Valentino was. The imposing moth was patiently waiting at one of the outdoor tables, dressed in a grey-black suit and waistcoat with a pair of regular round glasses instead of his usual pimp material. Like he'd made an effort to try and be _friendly_... A tall thin glass of red liquid was placed between his hands while his others had just lit up a cigarette of equally red smoke.  
Angel was instinctively repulsed by it. Fuck, he hated that stuff... Everything about this was wrong, his head screaming at him to just turn around and forget he was here. He knew from his days around the mob when something reeked of a set up.  
He didn't get a chance to when Val's eyes met his. Angel's own narrowed in a flinch, expecting the normal yells of getting over there to come out any second now... but they didn't. Instead, the pimp just nodded his head with a soft smile and motioned the spider over without a word, gesturing to a seat opposite him. Angel wasn't sure what he hated more at that moment. Val acting like he usually did, or this awful fakery he was exhibiting now.

He swallowed his nerves and took his boss' lead, slipping into the metal chair and crossing his legs and all of his arms in one smooth motion. His scowl remained persistent, just as Val's smile did.  
“Glad you could make it, baby. I've been waitin' here for lunch every day since I messaged you,” the moth explained, taking another drag from his cigarette. “I guess I just missed it, you know? Been a long while since we spent some time together like this, just the two of us?”  
Angel didn't grace that with an answer. He simply scowled harder and remained silent, refusing to budge from his view that this was all some sort of stupid ruse to rope him into something again. Val dismissed the question with a twitch of his hand, almost looking disappointed in getting nothing back. He instead used one of his hands to hold out his pack of death sticks.  
“Smoke?”  
The spider's eye twitched.  
“No thanks. I'm tryin' to _quit_.”

A bold answer, but he felt he could afford to say it it. For even if Valentino was an overlord, Angel did have some firepower with him just in case. They might not be able to kill anything properly, but no demon wanted to be on the receiving end of machine gun fire given the amount of healing it would involve.  
He'd never have considered ever being this brave before. In the past, the mere _thought_ of fighting back against his abuser almost made him shut down given how severe the reprimands were from breaking the rules. With Alastor backing him up, though, he felt he could at least push the limits a bit. At least not be a pushover, even if it could worsen things later.  
But to his surprise, Val didn't even seem to care what he'd said. It didn't phase him in the slightest. Instead, he simply slid the pack back into his pocket and took a sip from his drink.  
“Name what you want from the menu, sugar. It's on me.”

Angel's teeth bore themselves, now feeling nausea of a different kind swirling around his stomach. How the hell could he act as though nothing had happened?  
“Are you for real? Ya think I came here to play _nice_ after what ya did to me...?”  
“Come on, Angel Cakes,” Val hummed, shaking his smoke to get rid of excess ash. “People might start starin'.”  
“I don't _care,_ ” he hissed. “Ya might have me stuck in a contract, but that don't mean ya can force me to be happy about it.”  
“Now, don't be like that...” the overlord cooed, his grin never losing its place on his features. Partially because he _could_ force it. He knew that his favourite had no real power in this conversation, that he'd felt he'd _had_ to agree to this because of the same powers that had got him to sign his afterlife away. But he was also being honest that he was only interested in talking. It was necessary for the plan to work.

“I just wanted to see you again,” he continued with another drag. “And what better place to do it than right here? I still remember the first time we were sat here, not long after we met. Don't you?”  
Angel grimaced, averting his intense gaze away from Val as he pulled his arms in even closer around himself. He did remember. But that didn't mean he wanted to, not when it was a memory utterly tainted by what things turned into.  
Even as much as he wished that the moth _had_ stayed how he was when he'd been picked up off the streets, when he had said he cared and wanted to keep the arachnid safe... it was impossible. The doping, the beating, the assaults... all of that meant there wasn't a chance of it again.  
“That was a long time ago...” Angel murmured, his claws tensing. “I _know_ ya ain't interested in goin' back to that, neither am I. I came here 'cause I want answers.”  
“Answers? What ever about, honey?”

There wasn't an ounce of sincerity in that. It sounded just as fake and synthetic as the rest of the sweet nothings Val let slip to Angel's ears whenever he had his way. But there was no coercion this time, no substances to keep him compliant. Which meant that Angel actually had a rare chance to risk being nasty about it, on thin ice as it may make him.  
“Just tell me what the hell yer playin' at. Bein' all nice an' _considerate_ ain't you...”  
“You really think I don't care?” Valentino asked, resting one of his hands against his chest as if to show he was hurt by that remark. “Angie, I wouldn't have done anythin' for you if I didn't want to see you succeed...”  
“Cut the crap, Val!” Angel exclaimed, leaning forward to slam a fist down and then jab a finger towards him. “Ya never gave a flyin' _fuck_ about me... All ya ever cared about was yer profit margins an' havin' somewhere to blow yer load when ya felt like it. Now tell me what's goin' on here!”

Valentino blinked. He was actually rather impressed at that outburst, the sheer fury in the spider's voice being something he'd only ever seen in fleeting moments when he was engaging in those trivial turf wars and the like. Such fire within him... damn, it only made him hotter. And more infuriating to deal with for speaking out of turn as drastically as he was doing. He'd _killed_ other sluts for less.  
But the moth kept that desire hidden, to a degree that Angel would never be able to tell he was feeling it. He had to, or this was never going to work. He simply sighed in disappointment that his whore wasn't going to consider being the same obedient little thing that he was when they first started. Now it was time to explain his reasons for putting the effort into this.

“Listen...” he said with a raise of his hands. “I was bein' honest. I just wanted to make sure that you're okay and not doin' somethin' that's gonna blow up in your face, doll. Bein' in that hotel of Magne's ain't a problem, but the kind of people who are in there _will_ be. I don't want to see you get hurt.”  
“What are you talkin' about...?” asked Angel, cringing as a hundred memories of the moth's claws on him flashed across his vision. “Since when did _you_ care about whether I got hurt or not?”  
“I know from your little date a while back that you're startin' to get real close to one of them in particular. With the _Radio Demon_. Oh, I can only imagine the charm he's laid on to get that to work...”  
Angel's blood ran cold as his eyes widened. Shit, how could he have forgotten that Val had seen them together? God damn it...!  
“I ain't meanin' to butt into your affairs too much, baby,” the moth continued. “Who you choose to sleep with tryin' to make ends meet for me is your call. But I feel I need to say this when it comes to that one... You _can't_ get near him. What he's capable of is some bad shit.”

Angel was stunned to where he could've almost laughed. This whole setup wasn't just trying to coerce him back to work or because he was breaking contract rules... it was because Val was _worried?_. He didn't like the fact he had _competition?_ Oh, he was going to exploit the hell of this, a sudden wave of bravery surging through him.  
“ _That's_ what this is about? Why, ya scared he'll be a better _fuck_ than you ever were?”  
“ _Anthony,_ ” Valentino spat, snapping the spider to shivering attention at using his full name. Even with his voice wavering between firm insistence and some phantom of concern, the moth _never_ used Angel's human moniker unless he was serious about something. And thanks to their contract, it meant Angel couldn't avoid listening even if he wanted to.

“I've seen what he's done in this city. I've seen what he's done to any demon stupid enough to cross his path,” Val sighed, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it on the table. “I'm warnin' you. You give him an opportunity and he'll chew you up and spit you out like _crud._ Like any other pawn in whatever game he's been playin' for years.”  
“Ya don't know 'im!” Angel argued, his eyes focusing on the rim of the table so he wasn't staring at his pimp while he spoke such blatant untruths. “I don't care about his rep or whatever has all o' ya so scared of 'im! We're in _Hell_ , Val. Doin' shitty things is the whole reason why any of us are down here. But I know he'd _never_ do anythin' to hurt me...”

“Is that right?” the moth asked, leaning forward himself. “Tell me, then. How much _do_ you really know about him? How much do you know of what he's done before he waltzed into that place? Of when he tricked someone in the same way he's trickin' you?”  
“Shut up...” Angel trembled, his lower hands almost ready to pull out his weaponry now to shut this line of conversation down. He didn't want to hear it, but Valentino kept talking anyway.  
“I'm guessin' not much, huh? But it's alright. Seein' as I'm being 'considerate', I'll give you an example,” Val hummed. “The first one who got involved with him was in the same position you are now. Now she was powerful, ruthless, everything that an overlord is and should be. And Radiohead got to her like he's gotten to you. Swept her up into some kinda partnership, talk of the town it was at the time. And when he finally made his move, it never stopped. _Everyone_ knew who he was after that.”

Angel's scowl cracked a little. As much as he hated to admit it, he actually didn't know much about what Alastor had done before his arrival at the Hotel. Shit, he didn't even know he _existed_ until then... but that didn't mean what Val was saying was true. It couldn't be...  
“What..?”  
“Do you know what he did? He _ate_ her,” came the buzzing answer. “Cut her down, served her up on a silver platter for all her friends, right when she was at her most vulnerable thinkin' they had somethin'. And he broadcast it, made sure that _everyone_ knew what he'd done. He ain't just a shitty person, Angel Cakes. He's one of the _worst_ down here. And he'll do the same thing to you if you're not careful.”  
“Yer fuckin' lyin'!” the spider yelled, standing up from his seat with his fists balled against the table surface. “Ya think yer gonna fool me with that crock o' shit? Even if it _were_ true, who cares if he tricked some stupid hag who prob'ly deserved it?! He'd never do that to me!”  
“Wouldn't he? Do you even know the reason _why_ he's at that Hotel? Or has he not let that slip to you?”

The spider's anger began to falter, then plummet away as he considered that question. In all honesty... there was no answer to give apart from what Alastor himself had said. An “ongoing investment into entertainment for himself”. To build up demons, only to watch them spectacularly fail. And, by extension, do exactly what Val said he'd done to that overlord.  
But it was all bullshit. It _had_ to be. This entire thing was nothing more than an attempt to get him to come back to the Studio, to toy with his deep rooted desire to just be wanted for something like the old days. He couldn't stay here any longer, feeling like he was going to be sick.  
Angel cursed under his breath as he stood up from his seat and took a few steps back to leave. It had been a mistake to come here, he should've listened to his instincts when he'd been given a chance to ignore it. But he was at least thankful he had the common sense to walk away before it got out of hand.

However, it was obvious his boss didn't want him to go just yet. He felt Val's hands slide over his upper shoulders from behind, keeping a firm hold on him as the demon's voice slithered into his ear like the worm he really was.  
“Aw, I know it hurts, baby. But you can always come back to Daddy's house if you can't stand to be around that monster any more..."  
Even as a horrible sense of fear was clamping around his chest at the possibility of what had been said, Angel pushed himself away with a swing of his arm. He felt his claw make contact with Valentino's cheek as he screamed, drawing the attention of every other patron of the cafe.  
" _Fuck you!_ "

Val could have easily dodged that. He could've snatched that wrist and bent Angel Cakes into submission, all from the sheer pressure he could put on his bones as he'd done a thousand times before for acting out of line... but he didn't. Instead, he took a step back, cut with three bloody lines that left trickling crimson steadily dripping down his face. He swiped his thumb across the blood, lapping up the excess with his tongue.  
Angel recoiled in horror, the reality of what he'd just done finally catching up with him. He hadn't thought, he hadn't fucking _thought_ , just acted on instinct out of his anger at again being treated this way by his employer. And now he was sure to punished for his insubordination, it was inevitable. Shit... shit, shit, _shit_... maybe he could salvage this...  
“...V-Val... Val, I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I-”  
“Oh, he's really done a number on you already, hasn't he?”

That alone made the chill down his spine a million times worse. Val didn't sound angry or frustrated, not even seedy or sensual like he could be dishing out his reprimands. He just sounded so _disappointed_ as he adjusted his suit, his face still smeared with blood. It was terrifying.  
“Fine. If you're sure about this, Angel Cakes, then I ain't gonna stop you,” he conceded. “It's your mistake to make. But if I see you gettin' hurt by him and you _somehow_ manage to crawl away intact... then I expect a _very_ big apology for you actin' out like this. You'll owe me. I'm just lookin' out for you.”

And nearly silently, Valentino turned away and began to walk in the opposite direction from Angel, leaving the spider stood on the sidewalk with only confusion and panic spiking strong within him. The star pulled his coat tighter around him as he suddenly hurried off the other way, trying to avoid the blatant gawping of the other cafe customers at what had just gone down.  
He had to get back to the Hotel. For his own peace of mind, he had to find Al and talk to him again, get this straightened out and prove that shithead wrong about what he said. Al would never do anything like that to him, he just knew it.  
Or at least, he thought he did. He _hoped_ he did.

A few metres away, Val grinned to himself while licking his lips. The seed had been planted.  
Now it was time for Vox to get to work.

* * *

Despite how there had been a rather intense feeling that something drastic would have changed back at the Hotel following what Val had told him, Angel had been almost surprised that there hadn't been. His logical thinking mentally told him off for being so fixated on his boss' lies. If he knew they weren't true, then why stew over them so intensely?  
The problem was that it was easier said than done. It was because of Valentino himself that Angel kept being riddled with all this doubt over people's intentions, no matter who they were. With the exception of Cherri, Charlie had been the first one to ever actually be genuine in what she said she wanted from him. And Alastor the second.  
If there was one thing he wanted to fix in this stupid Hotel, it would easily be that. To stop feeling like he was always going to be double-crossed or tricked. It was why he kept asking Alastor if he was sure about their deal all the time, probably to the point the Radio Demon was getting sick of it. He always needed to be certain that he hadn't messed up again...

Thankfully, his partner had been on hand to spirit him away from all that nonsense only minutes after he had sat down in the lobby. Alastor had approached with an offer of dinner for just the two of them that evening using his own recipes. He claimed he'd been trying something out while Angel had been “shopping” (or at least, that was the cover the spider was using), and was keen to test the results. Naturally, the star agreed.

A boring meeting with Charlie over his progress and some idle chores later, Angel found himself in the Hotel's dining room at a much later hour than normal. Necessary to try and make sure no unwanted noses could pry into their business. He was sat patiently at a small table, single candle in the centre as Alastor finished up in the kitchen. Cliche as fuck, but he'd not had much chance to experience cliches before. He wasn't going to complain about it.  
The spider hadn't gone overboard, but he'd cleaned up a bit more than usual for this. A red top that Cherri had lent him that exposed his upper shoulders, form fitting sports bra underneath with the black straps visible close to his neck, and a longer black skirt than normal which stopped just before his boots began above the knee. He'd gone for dark red make-up on his eyes as if to compliment Al, and each of his hands were wrapped in fishnet gloves.

The clock on the wall just passed 9:30 and chimed only once, right on cue to signal his partner finally emerging from the depths of his cooking space. Alastor stepped through the open door pushing a serving cart with his hands, wheeling it over to the table as he hummed an old Fats Waller with a twitch of his ears. Angel swore he could almost hear the piano with each step thanks to the Radio Demon's powers.  
Alastor appeared to have dressed down in comparison to Angel's dolling up. A plain white suit shirt with a very loose red tie on the front, his collar a little askew from his work in the kitchen. His sleeves had been pushed up to stop on his forearms and the deer's gloves had been replaced with a black leather set that still looked just as sharp as the arachnid's claws. He was still wearing his suspiciously stained red apron too.  
“Thank you for your patience,” the Radio Demon hummed, lifting the tray from the cart to the table in order begin dishing up his chosen meal. He set a covered plate down before opening a bottle of red, pouring a generous amount into their glasses. “Now, I warn you that I am not as experienced in Italian cuisine as I would like to be, but I hope you will still enjoy it. I believe this is a favourite?”

Angel's eyes widened as Alastor lifted up the covering and presented his plate of piping hot food, the aroma instantly recognisable as he leaned towards it with a fluttering of his eyes.  
“Ya made _carbonara_?” he asked, smiling sweetly as the deer nodded his head.  
“I _attempted_ to make _carbonara_ ,” he clarified, setting his own plate in place, sitting down, and unfastening his apron to make himself proper for their meal. “I do not know if I'd be able to match the talents of your mother, but I don't think it's _too_ egotistical of me to say I tend to be quite good at what I put my mind to.”  
“Oh, I know ya can be,” Angel hummed, looking almost adorably smitten as he stuck his fork in and whirled up a rather impressive bite. In a smooth motion, the spider snatched it between his teeth, closing his eyes with a satisfied hum at just how damn _good_ the flavour was. He'd daresay Al had pulled it off. “Mm...”  
“Did I succeed?”  
“ _More_ than succeed, Al. This is fuckin' _amazin'._ ”  
“Well, if I've gotten you to curse, that must be a good sign,” the Radio Demon chuckled, taking a long sip of his wine.

Their meal progressed much like any other they'd shared for the past few weeks. They enjoyed the flavours, they spoke of some past memories to compare experience, Al even told how Cherri had come to the Hotel that night and how they'd spoken for the first time in person. Despite some jokes from Angel about his “boyfriend meeting the family” causing a mild amount of fluster, things remained just as pleasant as they ever had been. Far removed from the horrors that the boss had tried to spin.  
Or so was the intent. Some time later, as Alastor tidied away their main course and briefly disappeared into the kitchen to fetch Angel dessert, the spider had been left alone in the quiet when he felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his skirt. He blinked, sliding a hand into the small space and fishing out the device to see what it was. An alert that he'd forgotten about or maybe Cherri asking how things were?  
It was neither of those.

_moth_pimp – 10:17 PM_   
**Sorry for actin' stern with you today, baby doll. I'm just worried about him gettin' too close. Keep your wits about you, don't let that shithead sweet talk you into anythin', 'kay?**

The feelings of nausea came back near instantly at reading that. That _asshole_ once again trying to worm his way into something he didn't need to and mess things up... Angel bore his teeth, appalled by the sheer lack of awareness in how ironic that _Val_ of all people was making a warning about sweet talking. Last thing he needed.  
And yet... the worming worked. After he shut the screen off and put his phone back, Angel's thoughts were cast back to what the moth had told him. Of Alastor's first notable conquest in Hell, when he tricked an overlord into a... partnership. Though Val had been vague on the details, the spider couldn't help but assume it wasn't just business given where he was sat now.  
But he remained convinced that Alastor couldn't do that to him, not after everything that they'd done to try and get this whole thing off the ground. If anything, this was just a reminder to ask and prove the owner of his contract wrong. He and Al trusted each other. Asking questions about stuff like this was almost the norm now, wasn't it?

“And here we are!” boomed the Radio Demon's announcement, exiting the kitchen with two small dessert dishes in tow. Angel's head darted up from his thinking, his gentle grin coming back as Alastor neared the table and set his creation down. A whipped light brown swirl of what looked like cream with a fine dusting of powder on top.  
“What is it?”  
“A bit of a twist on mousse,” Alastor explained as he sat down. “I'm not _totally_ against sweets, but I _greatly_ prefer that bitterness you get from a fine roast infused in there. Do give it a try.”  
Angel brought his spoon to his mouth, immediately seeing what his partner meant as an explosion of sugary sweetness and intense coffee aromas graced his pallet. Another roaring success as he eagerly dove back in.  
“I think the princess had a point when she said ya coulda been a chef...”  
“You praise me too highly, my dear. But I suppose it does have some advantages.”

As the pair settled in to enjoy the finale of their dinner at their own pace, the room fell quiet save for the odd clattering of spoon against glass. As much as the mousse was keeping him a good mood for the effort that Alastor had gone through to make it, Angel's head was still partially occupied in trying to figure out a way to bring up his question. Especially without giving away the reason why he wanted to know...  
Unfortunately, the spider tended to forget how strong the deer's sense of perception was and he was broken out of his daydreaming by a question of Alastor's own.  
“Penny for your thoughts?”  
“Huh?” Angel flubbed, looking up and meeting Al's intense gaze from across the table. “Oh, I was, uh... just thinkin' 'bout stupid shit. Doesn't matter...”  
“I doubt that anything you could talk to me about would be classed as 'stupid',” Alastor reasoned. “Unless it involved the various... objects that you own for personal use.”

Angel giggled at that, sliding his spoon around the inside of his dish to get any excess he may have missed. Well, Alastor had just given him an opening, so...  
“I guess I... was just wonderin' about _you_. I mean, I've told ya stuff and complained about a lotta crap the last few weeks, but I ain't really asked about anythin' relatin' to you. And I _wanna_ know more about ya, since we're... ya know...”  
Alastor's ear twitched with a perked brow.  
“There isn't much to tell. You already know what I did during my days of humanity.”  
“No, I mean, like... what ya did down _here_ ,” the star explained. “Miss Grumpypants said ya've been raisin' Cain for at least a decade 'fore I bit it, but I don't really know nothin' about it. Never got much chance to listen to radio at the Studio, ya know?”

Alastor set his spoon down with a tilt of his head the other way before he dabbed his mouth clean with a napkin. He hadn't actually considered that before. It was probably partially the reason why Angel had been so full of lusty bravado when they first, because he simply wasn't aware of who he was. Given how open the arachnid had been about his time in Hell, the deer felt it was only fair to do the same.

“I suppose that's an understandable thing to ask...” he conceded, setting down his cutlery and pushing it to the side. “Though there's quite a bit of history concerning the 'Radio Demon', so you may have to be more specific.”  
Angel nodded, pushing away his implements too and resting his upper arms on the table.  
“Well, uh... how did it all start? I mean, people say ya've been 'known' for a long time, but there had to be somethin' that kicked it all off.”

Alastor's eyes wandered to the corner of the room, like he was trying to cast his memory that far back. Truth be told, it had been so long that a lot of the details surrounding his conquests tended to blur together in his mind these days. Still, if Angel was asking about the _very_ first, then that one was rather clear. As he'd said way back then at Husk's bar, you never forget your first.  
“It started with Elena, I suppose. Or at least, my dealings with her.”

A tension in Angel's body froze him solid on the spot. A woman. A _dealing_ with a woman. A demon that he had some sort of business with... even if it didn't prove Val correct outright, the fact it was starting to line up with his claims made a lump form in his throat.  
No... no, it didn't mean anything. It was just a name, right? It could've been _anyone_ , their business could've been _anything_. It proved nothing.  
“Elena, huh?” the spider repeated after a moment of some silence to maintain his calm. Inside, he was anything but. “She sounds fancy...”  
“Oh, she was,” Alastor explained, reaching out to take another drink of his wine. A much bigger one than before. He'd always needed this when dealing with her... “An heiress who was struck down before she could obtain what she wanted most in life. She was quite the character! Always acting so high and mighty, tall and head strong! Well... at least she _thought_ her head was strong...”

Alastor's dark chuckle at that remark only made the pit of worry in Angel's stomach grow even larger. He was still clutching to his insistence that Val had been lying to him, that he'd twisted the story to stab directly at the heart of his whore's biggest insecurity that he was being used.  
“I'm guessin' things didn't stay so hot...?”  
“Unfortunately not. She was too blinded by what she wanted and what she thought was the nature of things to see it coming,” the deer explained. “When I found out _how_ she'd earned her way to the position of overlord, I made plans to see that it came to a stop, and made sure everyone knew about it. It just took a little patience...”

Angel was almost thankful that he'd gained a talent for shutting away bad feelings after handling his boss for so many years. This Elena character almost sounded _exactly_ like him when they'd first started this. Wearing the blinders too tightly to see the real picture, the real intent of what the Radio Demon was doing... but it wasn't the same, right?  
Alastor said he mattered. Alastor said he liked him. Maybe even _love_ him when they got that far... but what if...?  
God damn, _fuck_ Valentino for doing this to him...

“But it's ancient history now,” Alastor carried on, his sharp teeth glinting in the dull candlelight. “I doubt you're in much the mood for hearing the specifics of what I did to her anyway. It could spoil your dinner!”  
“I suppose not...” Angel smiled back. Forced as it was with his head a jumble of conflicting thoughts. “Just curious, ya know?”  
He huffed to try and calm down. He was probably just... overthinking this. Valentino had probably been vague on purpose so that he'd make the connections himself, right? That he'd do all of the work in casting doubt over their relationship without the moth having to lift a finger.  
No, he wasn't going to fall for it. And he felt a lot more confident in thinking that when he realised Alastor had appeared at his side.

“I hope you enjoyed tonight, darling,” he hummed softly, reaching down to take one of the spider's hands. “More than worth it for me to see you smile again.”  
“Aw, ya really _are_ a big softie...” Angel flushed, batting another hand his way as the familiar burn set in around his face. “Always know how to make a girl feel special.”  
“You make it much easier than you think,” Alastor grinned, bending forward. He turned quiet, making Angel blink a little puzzled at what he was doing.  
“Al...?” he asked, the deer's ears twitching upright.  
“Is it... not customary to allow a... uh, parting... thing?”

The sentence failed him as Alastor's face started to darken now, his deep red eyes looking away to the floor. The spider's chest felt hot when he understood what he was trying to get at. Two of these in one day? Either he'd really made an impression or Al liked it way more than he'd let on.  
He snickered as his hold on his partner's hand went tighter, moving in with gently pursed lips towards his cheek...

The door to the dining room flew open with a bang before he had to make contact. Both Angel and Alastor went rigid away and darted away from other, the deer adjusting his monocle while the spider pulled down the front of his shirt to make it fit better. Thankfully, it ended up being someone who already knew what was going on.  
“Are you two still here?” slurred Husk, the cat dragging his feet a little as he wandered in. “Fuckin' geez...”  
“I could ask a similar question as to what _you_ are doing here,” Alastor shot back, hands now behind his back. “I'm afraid I don't have any more of that brandy on hand for you yet.”  
“Save it, wise guy. I just need some fuckin' water. Bar don't have much of that on tap...” the bartender rumbled with a tipsy wobble. “...and to ask _where_ you got that brandy.”  
“Oh? I'm sure we could arrange a _deal_ of some sort...”  
Husk frowned, even harder than normal.  
“You're a real asshole, you know that?”  
“And you'd make a fine rug, my good fellow!”

Alastor grinned, chuckling to himself as Husk dragged himself into the kitchen. He turned his attention back to Angel.  
“I apologise. You know how insistent old Husker can be about his drink...”  
“Don't worry about it, Al,” Angel beamed back, keeping his fingers locked with the other demon's. “Thanks... for everythin'.”  
“Whenever you need me,” he purred back, echoing his words from that night as he pulled away with a bow. In a matter of moments, he'd disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Angel alone. He supposed he should make tracks, knowing that Nuggs was probably waiting on him to come back in his room...

His phone buzzed as he stood up. Convenient timing to ruin his mood, yet again, because of course it was. He was starting to get really tired of flicking back and forth between genuinely happy and then stupid paranoia, it made him feel almost bi-polar. He was messed enough mentally as it was, he didn't need his pimp making it worse. He angrily swiped away his lock screen.

_moth_pimp – 10:59PM  
_ **Everythin' okay, babe? I'm here if you need to talk.**

Angel snarled as he left the hall, heading to the main stairs of the lobby with speed to his room. He was done. He just wanted to tell Val to fuck off and be done with it now. Screw his interference, screw his contract, screw everything that he'd ever said and claimed he meant, _all_ of it.  
But he knew he couldn't. For as little as he knew about the politics of Hell as a whole, what Angel knew from personal experience was all he needed to. He couldn't just walk away from an overlord, no matter what he wanted. Contracts were binding in more ways than one down here.  
But that didn't mean he wasn't going to get something out of it. As the star finally made it to his personal space and closed the door behind him, he began to type back a message while he sat on the bed. He wanted answers before, and he wanted them now too.  
 _This_ would prove Val's words as bullshit. Maybe he hadn't given specifics before because he didn't _know_ them and anyone could spin a story that matched the rumours if you didn't bother with specifics in the first place.

_angie_fluffy_bootz – 11:00PM_   
**what was the broads name**

_angie_fluffy_bootz – 11:00PM  
_ **no bullshit**

A minute ticked by. Then another. The arachnid was left to stare intently at the screen as the seconds passed unanswered and his teeth started grinding against one another. He knew that Val was _toying_ with him, keeping him on edge for as long as he could with his silence. It drove him crazy.  
“Say somethin', asshole!” Angel hissed to himself, clutching at his device so hard that it nearly creaked from the pressure. Maybe this was the smoking gun he needed, the lack of an answer being the only answer necessary to prove that it-  
 _ **Ping.**_  
It came through.

_moth_pimp – 11:02 PM_   
**Elena. Overlord in control of the same turf Envy Square's sat in now. Switched hands ever since he took her down, battin' between the friends that he served her to.**

_moth_pimp – 11:02PM  
_ **She used to own the Club. That's why Radiohead has an arrangement there.**

Angel lowered his phone, silencing the harsh gasp he wanted to make with his claw. That couldn't be right, it _wasn't_. There was no way that abusive, disgusting, terrifying _freak_ of an overlord would have ever meant what he said today. That he let slip this information to _protect_ his star from harm...  
But now the details fit. A soul who had fallen for the Radio Demon's charms, too swept up in thinking they had something special to see the trap that lay in wait, primed to spring. A trap that Alastor _himself_ said he had needed a lot of patience for in order to pull off. Just like with their arrangement...  
And now, not only had Al given him a name to fit that claim, but Valentino confirmed it was correct with the info that he'd been wishing he didn't have. The story was, in all likelihood, real. And Angel had nothing to argue against it with.

  
No, _no_ , _**no.**_ It _couldn't_ mean what that fucking insect was trying to make it mean, not after everything they'd gone through. Alastor had admitted he had _feelings_ for him, he'd even tried to deny them at first! Why would he do any of that if this was just an elaborate ruse for his own entertainment?  
Angel wanted to think it was a coincidence, that Valentino was simply using past events he didn't know about to try and spin the story in his favour. But the other part couldn't stop clinging to the doubt, to the idea that he would just be another footnote to those stories. Another casual source of entertainment for the Radio Demon.  
Because Al had already said that's what he wanted, after all. That his reason for being invested in the Hotel was just to watch demons fail when they were so close to achieving something of note. As much as it was making his guts tangle in knots from the uncertainty that what he'd longed for would be yet again ripped away down here, Angel couldn't help but wonder...

...surely Valentino wasn't telling the _truth?_


	4. Step Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It couldn't be true... but he'd had fallen too deep into the rabbit hole now and he couldn't escape the looming horrible idea that this whole affair was about to be exposed as a fake. But in the end, just like Step Two called for, the fatal mistake was ultimately his to make.

“Such a nice midday for a stroll, wouldn't you say, Husker?”  
“Midday? Wait, when was it midday...? Shit...”

Alastor chuckled as the cat rubbed his eyes, groaning with a baring of his teeth like he'd only just woken up. It wouldn't be far from the truth, the bartender having passed out in a usual drunken snooze not long after he had walked in on the private dinner last night.  
From their meeting in the kitchen, the Radio Demon had agreed to buy some more of his requested brandy on the conditions that Husk go with him to get it and he maintained his silence over his relations with Angel. Husk had no memory of that deal for obvious reasons, but he couldn't argue he hadn't said yes. So here they were.  
The air in Hell was always higher temperature around this time of day, the fire chasms that surrounded the city more active as if they were on a schedule similar to geysers topside. It didn't bother Alastor much, his roots in the South meaning he was able to adapt to heat much easier than most. Wearing his trademark coat over his shoulders and tapping his cane as he walked, he appeared right at home.  
Husk, meanwhile...

“Fuckin' hell...” the cat demon rumbled, squinting as his slouched posture kept trying to keep up pace with the deer. He could feel himself sweating profusely and it was already matting his fur. “I'm too hungover to deal with this...”  
“Maybe young Charlotte has a point when she advises that excess is an unwise decision?” Alastor suggested, smirking. “After all, you're barely aware of the reason why you're here in the first place.”  
“Listen, pal. Reality is a symptom of alcohol _deficiency_. I just do my part to keep myself 'healthy'. Got it?”

Alastor supposed that was a fair comeback, rolling his shoulders with the sound of an audience laughing along with him. It wouldn't be a few minutes more before they had arrived at the small shop stocking their prize, right on the corner of a city street where most of the alcohol down here was sold.  
It seemed unassuming, certainly nowhere near the glamour and flamboyance of the other stores that lined the pavements, but there was something about the old-fashioned look that was quaint. From the dark windows and the green canopies that extended over them, it almost looked abandoned, which made it an unlikely suspect in hoarding the good stuff.  
“Well, here we are!” Alastor announced, pointing to the entrance with his cane. “None of the fake pedigree in this establishment, no sir! We'll find what you're looking for in there.”

As the duo walked up the handful of steps into the store, Husk stayed back as he watched Alastor saunter his way in with a boastful declaration of his presence. The feline's brow furrowed as he watched the shopkeeper clam up from realising who his customer was, the distraction giving him a chance to start thinking.  
Al had done quite the few favours for him over their years of working together, but this was one of the rare times he hadn't asked for anything proper in return. Walking with him and simply keeping quiet about something was nothing in comparison and the Radio Demon had been doing these one-sided efforts more and more for a while now.

Alastor being... _nicer,_ even if constantly poisoned by his attitude and sneering remarks? That wasn't the Alastor Husk knew, not unless he was pulling a turn on some mark for his own enjoyment. Everyone else knew that the Radio Demon could be and _was_ incredibly nasty to have earned his legend, so it just came across as weird.  
Of course, the bartender knew the reason why there had been a strange shift in persona. Because of Angel. It was the only major change to Alastor's routine, one that he'd had to personally intervene in to ensure that the deer wouldn't screw it up because of his need to be 'seen' in a certain way. Christ, those two were just the same as each other...

“As requested, my friend!”  
Al's voice suddenly sounding off in his ear made Husk's fur stand on end, jumping on the spot as he was presented with the Radio Demon leering into his face with a presented bottle in his clawed gloves. Husk growled as he gently pushed at Alastor's chest to get him to back off, even if the contact made the air buzz more so than normal.  
“Thanks...” he finally said, taking the vessel and leaving the store with the deer following behind him. As he looked over the label on the front to confirm it was the right brand, vintage, and type, Husk's eyes narrowed when he stopped on the pavement. His ear twitched when he heard Alastor's tuning noises over his shoulder.

“So, you gonna tell me why you're just givin' this to me without wantin' me to do another _real_ job for you?”  
“We made a deal, didn't we?” Alastor reminded him, tapping his nose in a knowing gesture even if his tone suggested he thought it would be obvious. “You come with me to purchase it, I purchase it. Simple.”  
“Nothin's _ever_ simple with you,” remarked Husk, huffing through his fangs. “And you certainly ain't one for doin' charity in any genuine way...”  
“That may be true, yes... but I suppose you _could_ see this as me thanking you.”

Husk blinked. Alastor's stance relaxed from its typical corpse-like rigidity, his expression softening a little as idly toyed with his cane.  
“Thankin' me? For what?”  
“For your help in regards to my... arrangement with Angel Dust,” the deer explained. “I doubt things would have turned out like they have if it wasn't for your intervention.”  
“Oh. Well...” the cat shrugged, pulling the cork out of his bottle and taking a swig straight. Shit, that was good. “I guess even _you're_ crappy with some things sometimes. Maybe you can take that as me makin' up for the ones I owe _you._ ”  
Alastor chuckled, readjusting his coat.  
“Always about trying to keep things even, isn't it?”  
Husk shrugged.  
“The best you can hope for in this dump.”

The pair of them resumed their walk back to the Hotel, the next few minutes passing in relative silence save for the occasional whispering wind and glug of liquid whenever Husk had a drink. Indeed, this was probably the closest to a “pleasant” encounter that Alastor had experienced with his old friend in a long time. He would almost say he liked it.  
Ugh. Enjoying _tranquillity?_ Maybe Angel _was_ making him go soft.  
But said tranquillity didn't last, it never could here. As they reached the top of the isolated drive that lead to the Hotel grounds, Husk broke Alastor out of his frequency-tinged daydreaming with a cough. The way he sighed before he started talking implied he'd been wondering how to do so for a while.

“So I heard you mentionin' some things to him last night. About people you've gotten involved with, and about _her._ ”  
“You were listening in?” Alastor asked, his posture turning stiff again as he raised a brow.  
“Can't exactly turn these off, 'specially when you were bein' so damn loud in an empty room,” said Husk, pointing up to his large ears to prove his point. “Do you really think that was a good idea?”  
“Why wouldn't it have been?” the deer asked back. “Angel wished to know more about my past deeds, I obliged and told him. Besides, I didn't mention anything specific...”  
“Yeah, but you chose to talk about someone you _pretended_ to get with before you made her into chow. Given that he's already messed up enough doin' what he does, it doesn't seem like a smart choice of subject.”

Alastor had to smirk at that. Despite his rough exterior implying otherwise, Husk's wisdom when it came to being sensitive of people was unmatched compared to others he knew. The perks of being a bar-crawler, he supposed. The contradiction of that with his intoxicated looks was more amusing than the cat would ever realise.  
“That brandy really has gone straight to your head, hasn't it?”  
“I'm bein' serious, you ass!” Husk snapped. “If you're tryin' to do this properly, you need to think before you speak! Who knows what that could have made him start thinkin'?”  
“Husker, calm yourself,” Alastor instructed, raising his hand to keep things peaceful. “ _He_ was the one who asked about Elena, he just doesn't know the context. We're all down here for doing unsavoury things, _especially_ myself, but answering questions about them doesn't mean anything. It isn't like that with Angel as it was with her.”  
“Really? Is that the same thing you said to Aphra? Gwenore? Seb, Justina, any of them?”

The deer's ears twitched as he stopped walking, turning towards his fellow demon with a similar twitch in his eye.  
“Excuse me?”  
“What, surprised I know the names of the saps? What you did to 'em? I heard the broadcasts _before_ you roped me into your shit. Point is, you got a _reputation_ for startin' things with people and then fuckin' them over later 'cause you find it fun. And the drag queen don't know anythin' about it.”  
“Those ones _deserved_ to be manipulated,” Alastor interrupted, the aura around him turning dark as he suppressed his powers with a curt huff. “You know the _filth_ that prowls this realm, always too full of pride and fixated on what they want to consider anything else. It leaves them exposed to what _I_ want, and I wanted them taken care of.”  
“And Angel?” asked Husk, folding his arms while keeping his claw clutched around his bottle. “I know that we talked about your whole 'thing' for him, but if you didn't really mean it-”  
“Don't talk nonsense, Husker. It doesn't suit you when you're sober.”  
“Just tell me what you're wantin' from him. And tell me this ain't gonna be one of your tricks like with the princess...”

Alastor went quiet. The truth was he wasn't actually sure what his 'endgame' with Angel would be, even despite the progress they'd made these last few weeks. Naturally, being closer than normal to someone had provided him with a lot to think about, not to mention being surprisingly enjoyable, but... well, what _would_ the result be? Something interesting to consider...  
He didn't want to lock up thinking about this right now.

“Come, Husker. We can't stay outside all day,” he finally said, resuming his pace towards the Hotel entrance without speaking a word more on it. This was a talk he didn't want to have, at least not unless it was with Angel privately.  
No sense in getting worked up over it until then, was there?

* * *

Unbeknown to Alastor, Angel was far from relaxed.

How in Hell could he be? What had started off as something almost dream-like was now quickly dissolving into a melting pot of the same anxieties that Valentino had thrown him into time and time again, the same collection of possibilities and worries that had tripped him up both in life and death.  
It wasn't like this hadn't happened before. Bad things repeating themselves were like a running gag for him at this point, ranging from simply getting the wrong idea of a situation to falling for Valentino's shit because he had no real choice in who else to believe. But with this, the spider wasn't just letting his uncertainties run rampant. He was finding proof to back them up.

After Val had confirmed that Alastor's past with Elena had been rooted in truth, Angel had started digging. Sat at his dressing table in a grey one shoulder top and black miniskirt, he was using his phone as a search engine to learn everything he could about the Radio Demon's history without having to face Alastor head on.  
Being locked in the Studio as he had been over the decades, he genuinely didn't know anything apart from what he'd learned the day Alastor had walked into the hotel and what he'd been told personally. Which had been worryingly little.  
Maybe he was only looking because he was hoping there'd be something in what he found to shatter the steadily looming conclusion that he'd made another mistake. That Alastor was only using him, just like everyone else... He wanted so _desperately_ to be proven wrong. It was actually pretty pathetic. Angel Dust, the most famous adult actor in the _entirety_ of Hell, acting like an insecure _teenager_. Damn it.

To say there was a wealth of info to uncover was an understatement, so much so that Angel's phone was taking longer to load than normal. Or so he assumed, with the frequent freezing and noticeable hitches on the screen. Ignoring the opinion pieces of prominent faces that were of no interest and the blogs that were near cult-like in their worship of the infamous being, there were _thousands_ of results to pour through.  
Reports from the news about overlords being found after clashes with Alastor, eyewitness statements of what they'd seen him do, recorded transcripts of the broadcasts on the days of the massacres... like the fool he was, Angel read through them all. The list of names kept building, some of them recognised from overhearing Val's conversations over the years.  
And Elena's was there too.

The star focused on that one in particular, his breathing shallow now he'd fallen too far down the rabbit hole to stop himself. It was the only one that Al himself had actually spoken about when he asked, so it seemed a logical choice to get the most knowledge from.  
A few taps later, he found what he was looking for. After another frozen period of loading, a scan of an old newspaper printed in 1933 appeared on his phone. The same year Alastor had first manifested.

_**LEADING OVERLORD STRUCK DOWN IN ENVY SQUARE. POSSIBLE LINK TO MYSTERIOUS BROADCAST?** _

_19 th October, 1933_

_The struggle for turf control took an interesting turn yesterday when the eviscerated remains of Elena Carter were found inside the Red Club on Envy Square. The discovery comes shortly after Carter was reportedly MIA and was mentioned by name in a strange radio signal that was broadcast to every receiver in the area which seemed to imply she had come to harm._

_Carter was a rising star in the overlord world and had been rapidly and aggressively expanding her territory to envelop most of the down town regions through hordes of well paid brutes. But shortly after the transmission of unknown origin had introduced her as the 'star' of the show a few nights ago, noted associates discovered what was left of her body in the kitchen of her establishment. Rumours speculate she may have been cannibalised.  
  
According to statements, Carter had entered into a relationship with a recent arrival to the city and the two had been working together in order to expand her turf shortly before her disappearance. Details on the suitor remain scant, but the second in command of Carter's operations shared what little we know.  
_

_“Yeah, man, the guy was a fuckin' weirdo,” they claimed, informally known as 'Ritz'. “He just strut in like some big show-off, but he really made an impression on the boss. Made a deal with her and they were, like, on the same wavelength or somethin', yeah? Really into it. But every time I saw 'im, the guy never stopped smilin' either. Gave me the freakin' creeps and I've seen a lotta shady shit.”_

_When asked to clarify about what he thought had happened to Carter, Ritz said he suspected her partner was responsible and that she'd been made into part of the menu the night of the mysterious broadcast given the condition of her body.  
“If she was though, she was pretty delish, not gonna lie. I'd just been hopin' to taste her in a different way, know what I mean?”_

_Carter's partner's whereabouts remain unknown._

_“...fuck.”  
_Angel swallowed hard, shaking his head softly with a rising panicked pace in his breathing. He wished he hadn't even bothered. Everything in the article confirmed what he'd been told, from _both_ Alastor and Val, and anything else he'd read was only adding to something that he didn't want to believe.  
That their deal, their _relationship_... was a ploy for something else.  
The spider's last hope was in shoddy reporting flying in the face of evidence. The bottom of the scanned newspaper page had some further links, claiming to be recorded copies of the broadcast it mentioned, along with a transcript.  
His heart was making his ribs ache from how hard it was beating, but he _had_ to know. One thing he'd learned through all this was that being in the dark was potentially worse than knowing the truth. Angel exhaled once, shaky as it may have been, unravelling his earbuds from a bundle on his table and plugging them in. Reading along as he listened, he hit play.

_\- Good evening, ladies and gentle-demons! This is your host for tonight speaking, coming to you live from the Red Club upon our own Envy Square! Let's hope none of_ you _get envious when I introduce the star of our show, haha! I assure you that it's one you all know and love to hate!_

_**\- *BACKGROUND*** Sweetie, is that you? What are you doing back there?_

_\- Ah, here she comes now..._

_**\- *DOOR OPENS*** _

_\- Hello my dear! I'd hoped to catch you tonight when you were alone._

_\- Well, aren't you just being sweet. I was actually wanting the same thing, honey. We got some... things to talk about._

_\- I couldn't agree more, darling. Please, do come in. Much better away from prying eyes, don't you think?_

_\- Well, you've been a fine man to me in places stranger than the Club kitchen... and it's not like you haven't been there for me anywhere else._

_-It's as I told you, isn't it? Whenever you need me._

Angel inhaled sharply. That was the _exact_ same line that Alastor had used on him. More than once. He lowered his phone away from his eyes, now transfixed straight ahead as the sound continued to play in his ears. And each new word felt like a cut right in his chest.

_\- Now, then..._

_\- * **UNKNOWN SOUNDS***_

_\- Wait, what the...? Al, did you do something to the door?_

_\- You'd be correct! It certainly wouldn't make my task any easier if I allowed you to just leave, would it?_

_\- What are you talking about? Come on, honey, I'm not in the mood for jokes._

_\- Elena, if I were joking, I would be laughing right now. I am_ not _laughing._

_\- Al, I... don't understand._

_\- Really? I thought it would be rather obvious why I wanted you alone. Certainly not for whatever you had in mind by wanting_ me _by my lonesome._

_\- Al...?_

_\- Did you_ really _think I went through all the trouble to acquaint myself with you out of some silly, selfish desire for companionship? No, no, no... I believe you've miscalculated in your ambition. Your hubris, one might say!_

_\- What the fuck are you talking about? Open the door!_

_\- Now, dear, if you won't remain still, I can't be held responsible for what comes next!_

_**\- *UNKNOWN SOUNDS*** _

_\- Although, realistically... I will be._ Gladly.

_\- You... bastard! I_ knew _that you were-_

_**\- *MUFFLED YELLING, SOUNDS OF CRACKING*** _

_\- Ah, 'tis a shame when a performance must end so soon! But I believe our star of the night is just about_ finished _, wouldn't you say, dear listeners?_

_\- * **SNAPPING NOISE, MUFFLED SCREAM***_

_\- Still, she'll have quite the swan song to sing for a while yet! Just unfortunate that I doubt many of you would miss her presence considering what she's done to get to where is. Quite the nasty thing, aren't you, darling?_

_\- * **MUFFLED WAIL, CRUNCHING***_

_\- So for now, my friends, I shall bid you adieu! Until next time..._ stay tuned!

_-_ _**SCREAMING** _ _*_

Angel tore the buds out of his ears and threw his phone to the floor, two of his hands clawing at his top and wringing it hard enough to tear holes. As he struggled to stay calm, his others had balled into fists, slamming down into his seat a handful of times as he swore and spat through clenched teeth.  
“Fuck, fuck, _no!_ ” he hissed, now clawing through his hair hard enough to tear it if he wanted to. “Fuck you, _fuck_ you, Val, _**FUCK YOU!**_ ”  
He knew his anger was misplaced as he kicked the dresser. Though years of experience had convinced him otherwise, Valentino _had_ been telling the truth. If he'd never gone to that stupid meeting at the _Spider's Kiss_ , maybe it wouldn't have mattered. Maybe being ignorant to it all would've allowed him to believe that things weren't as tainted as the reports and the transcripts said they were.

Instead, all Angel felt was sick, clutching the back of his head as he vaguely heard Fat Nuggets stir behind him in his bed. His next step came to his thoughts, drawing a blank on what he was going to do. He didn't know. His options were either going back to the boss or just acting like he didn't know anything, both of them making the feeling in his stomach coalesce into an awful bloat.  
He panted, quickly reaching for his boots underneath the table and scooping his phone off the floor. Another crack to the screen, but fuck it. Least of his worries. He... he needed to get out for a bit. Get some air, hot and burning as it always was in Hell. Maybe even pick up a score from the vending machines again, just _something_ to blank his head...  
As the spider left with a slam of the door, Fat Nuggets tilted his head with a confused little snort.

What had gotten his owner in such a state?

* * *

Despite his rush down the stairs to make sure he was scarce as quickly as he could manage, Angel didn't get ten steps through the lobby before he was stopped in his tracks. When Charlie's voice suddenly called his name. Just fucking perfect timing.  
“Oh, Angel! I was looking for you! You got a minute?” the princess' sweet voice exclaimed, coming to a stop behind him as he had been ready to reach for the door. The spider visibly flinched at the sound, his arms wrapping around himself with fingertips clawing into bare arms. He couldn't deal with this right now.  
“Uh... later, Cha Cha... I need to go...”  
“Go?” Charlie repeated, tilting her head in concern when she noticed how he was curling in like a dead version of his 'species'. “ _Where_ do you need to go? I didn't think you worked today.”  
“I don't, I... “ Angel started, briefly looking over his shoulder while his claws kept digging into his fur and rubbing his limbs. “I just need to get outta here, 'kay...?”  
“Aw, come on, we were about to get ready for game night! It'd be a shame if you weren't there!”  
“I don't _care_ about yer stupid fuckin' games!” the spider suddenly yelled, turning around on the spot and making Charlie flinch back from his loud he was. “I just need to go! A'right?!”

Even if such an outburst would have sent Charlie reeling a few months ago, she'd adapted quite well to such things now. Though she had been caught off guard by her patron's shouting, she stood her ground with that same encouraging grin she always seemed able to summon when needed.  
“Okay. I know you've been without some of your fixes for a while and you've been really good at trying to cut back,” she said sympathetically. “You don't have to come to the night, but it'd be a bigger shame if you went out and spoiled your streak, wouldn't it?”  
“N-No, ya don't get it! This ain't about my drugs or... gettin' laid or... _anythin'!_ ” the star argued. Try as he might to contain it, he was certain she'd have picked up the crack in his voice on that last word. He swallowed, trying to keep his cool as he started to turn around again. “I need to-”  
“Need to what, Angel?”

Angel felt like his entire body had been dipped in ice when he heard that voice. _His_ voice. Before he'd even turned to face the Hotel doors properly, he eyes met Alastor's, the Radio Demon having just used them himself almost silently. Fitting with his talent for appearing out of nowhere without so much as a whisper.  
“A...” he started, the word failing him as he Husk slipped through the door and past the pair of them. His eyes fell to the floor, arms now around him like straitjacket restraints from how tight they were. Alastor naturally noticed with a concerned look on his brow.  
“Is everything alright...?” he asked, leaning forward so that he could catch the spider's eye.  
“Uh... y-yeah, um... hey, l-listen, Al?” he finally stammered out, his eyes twitching back and forth in some vain attempt to keep his voice down and check for anyone else listening in. “Can we talk...? Alone...?”

Alastor's permanent smile faltered for a moment. That wasn't just a request to spent some time together like he had done before. The shaking in Angel's voice proved that something had rattled him severely, spiking that unfamiliar feeling of concern within him again. This wasn't good.  
“Guys, is everything okay...?” Charlie cautiously interrupted, standing between the two of them with worry plastering her made-up features.  
“Yes, we will be fine, dear,” Alastor assured her, flexing his smile at the corners just for a moment as he began to walk out of the lobby with Angel in tow. “Just give us a moment?”

As the two demons headed towards Alastor's office, Charlie was left standing there a little dumbfounded as to what was going on. What sort of business with Angel have with Alastor to need him so suddenly? And why did he feel the urge to leave the Hotel as quickly as that?  
It didn't make any sense. With the entrance space now empty, the only one she had to turn to was Husk, who had gotten himself comfortable behind the bar with his new booze. She made a choice to start with him.  
“Um, Husk...?” the demoness asked, clutching her hands in front of her chest as she got his attention. “Do you know anything about what's going on?”  
“Your guess is as good as mine, Princess,” he answered honestly, shrugging with another gulp of brandy. “But...”  
“What?” she interrupted. “What is it?”  
Husk's scowl turned harder. Once again, it seemed like his observations were coming back to bite them all in the ass.  
“I'd man the barricades if I were you. Whatever happens next, it ain't gonna be pretty...”

* * *

The door shut a second or so after Angel had entered Alastor's office, now stood in the exact same spot where this had all started. He was staring at the floor, his arms locked around his frame. God, he felt awful. The sheer panic he could feel welling within him, the awful twisting and stabbing sensations through his heart about what was going to happen next. He'd felt it before when faced with his boss when he'd been bad.  
But now he was dealing with it from _Alastor_. From the one demon who he actually felt something genuine for, for someone who had returned it... well, at least _acted_ like he returned it. The small sliver of hope he had left that what he'd discovered could be undone was already crumbling before he'd said anything.

Alastor finally came around and discarded his jacket over his desk. Now shut away from the rest of the Hotel as they were now, the Radio Demon's expression was relaxed, showing the best attempt at looking “worried” that he could pull off with his grin when he finally said something.  
“What's the matter, dear?” he asked, reaching out his hands to try and touch Angel's fingers. He found himself recoiling when Angel did the same, the arachnid letting out a huff of air as he shifted his body away from the gesture. The concern within Alastor spiked again, worse than before. “Angel?”  
“Look...” the star croaked, clearing his throat to try and have some strength in his voice despite his nervous twitching. “I just... I need ya to tell me straight, 'kay? Whatever I ask ya, don't _bullshit_ me...”  
“Darling-”  
_“_ Just _do it!”_

Alastor's ears lowered for a fraction at the yell, his intense red eyes wandering over Angel's features in some vain attempt to work out what had shaken his partner up so badly.  
“...of course I will,” he agreed, taking a step forward again to resume his starting point. “But I don't understand...”  
“That overlord,” Angel snapped, cutting Alastor off. “That Elena broad. You had somethin' with her, didn't ya?”  
“Elena? We... had a partnership, yes,” the deer began, his smile falling on one side. “But it-”  
“Ya got close to her too, right? Not just business?”  
“I suppose I... did in a way. But, Angel, what-”  
“An' then, when ya had her hook line an' sinker... ya _killed_ her. Right?”  
“What?”  
“Not just killed, you fuckin'... you _ate_ her!” the spider forced out, like the mere idea of it made him feel ready to vomit. Alastor clenched his teeth.  
“Angel, that is all _years_ in the past!” he argued, barely hanging on to his grin now. “I fail to see what-”  
“Ya did, didn't ya?!” Angel shouted, almost threatening to drown out the steadily rising feedback of the Radio Demon. “And ya didn't stop there! Ya just kept goin', down the list of stupid fuckin' mugs who fell for the same trick until ya took 'em out! Gwenore, Justina, Aphra, Iustitia, Seb, all of 'em! I know _all_ o' their fuckin' names and what ya did to 'em!”

Alastor's mouth fell open a little. How had Angel discovered all of those names in less than a day? And more importantly, _why...?_ He shook his head insistently, his expression creased into a mixture of both frustration and worry at what he was hearing. Angel had surely misunderstood _all_ of this, or at least hadn't learned the reasons behind his body count.  
“I still do not see why this is relevant in the _slightest..._ ” he began, mustering up a counterargument as best he could. “You know full well that I've toppled demons before. Just because you don't understand the-”  
“Oh, I think I _do_ understand...” Angel grunted, fishing out his phone from his pocket with the screen still stuck on the page he'd been looking at. He bore his teeth as he hit play on the audio. “I've _heard_ what ya do to the chumps ya make deals with.”  
Alastor's ears jerked upright to attention when he heard the voices start blaring out of the device's speaker. The voice of Elena and his own talking back to her. Just like the first broadcast he ever made when he'd made his first kill in Hell...

_\- Well, aren't you just being sweet. I was actually wanting the same thing, honey. We got some... things to talk about._

_\- I couldn't agree more, darling. Please, do come in. Much better away from prying eyes, don't you think?_

He remembered that night clear as anything, more so than his other kills due to it being his establishing moment. The way he had tricked her before she could make a move, the way she had been powerless against a might she hadn't expected from him.  
It was a night that cemented him as a force to be feared and respected down here, where he showed that horrible aberration of a demoness the price of being too fixated on personal gain. Yet...

_\- Well, you've been a fine man to me in places stranger than the Club kitchen... and it's not like you haven't been there for me anywhere else._

_\- It's as I told you, isn't it? Whenever you need me._

Something about this wasn't right. It did sound like him and he would've recognised Elena's voice anywhere. But the exact words said in this playback felt... off. Like they were someone's _imagining_ of what he may have said rather than what the broadcast itself had contained.

_\- Did you_ really _think I went through all the trouble to acquaint myself with you out of some silly, selfish desire for companionship? No, no, no... I believe you've miscalculated in your ambition. Your hubris, one might say!_

He couldn't explain how or why, but the deer was left with only one conclusion to make from Angel's 'evidence'.  
“...I never said that,” murmured Alastor. “I definitely did not say that to her, I _remember_.”  
“Yeah? Well, it sure fuckin' sounds like you!” spat Angel, squeezing his phone hard enough to make another crack in the glass. “That's the same thing ya've been sayin' to me! That just yer line to fool people?!”  
“No, it... listen, it doesn't matter what I did or did not say!” the Radio Demon reasoned. “What happened to overlords decades ago doesn't change _anything_ about you and me. Darling...”  
“No, Al, this... changes _everythin'!_ ” Angel screeched, covering up his mouth to try and contain the rapidly forming cracks in his composure. Because so far, nothing he'd heard had proven Val wrong. “...'cause you were gonna do it to me too, weren't ya?”

Alastor's scowl relaxed, his smile only at the corners of his mouth now.  
“You thought I was going to _what...?_ ”  
“Don't lie to me!” Angel exclaimed, sniffing with a rapid series of blinks to stop himself blubbing again like a weakling. “I've seen the proof... Yer status quo o' trickin' people into doin' somethin' and then cuttin' 'em down when they don't see it comin'. Ya've done it with this Hotel, an' ya musta seen too big a chance in me to resist...”  
“No, no, a _thousand_ times, no!” Alastor said in a raised voice. “I would _never_ have done that to you. Why would I have stuck through everything that we have done together if it was all just some elaborate game?”  
“I... I dunno...” Angel stuttered, his convictions weakening a little at that logic, more so when his partner kept talking.  
“If I wanted you dead like them, I would dispense pleasantries and just do it. But that's the _last_ thing I want... And why in Hell's name did you start trying to find all of this out in the first place? What was it? Rumours? Someone said something? What?”

Even though Angel remained silent as he stepped back from the rising anger in the Radio Demon's frequencies, Alastor's powers of perception told him everything that they needed to. He noticed it. The subtle cringing of the spider's stance, a twitch of his upper lip, just as he had heard the suggestion of being told it by someone else.  
It would explain why Angel appeared to have brought it up out of nowhere during dinner, why his thoughts on it had bothered him even before Alastor had confirmed any of it was true. But who would try and plant that in his partner's head? No one from the Hotel had an interest in causing a rift and the only people the star was in contact with were...  
Oh.  
_Oh._

“...Angel,” Alastor growled, lowering his head as the filters on his voice started to fracture and ebb away. “Tell me that you have not spoken to _him_.”  
The spider opened his mouth to speak, but the raw power in just those few softly spoken words left him dead in the water. He trembled when the Radio Demon finally looked his way again, his eyes piercing red flares of light that cut through the darkness now starting to surround his head.  
“No, I... I just wanted to know if-”  
“Stop. It's _my_ turn to insist that you don't lie to me,” the Radio Demon growled, his powers crackling around his head in flashes of voodoo symbols and energy. He turned away from Angel, facing his desk and clenching his hands down by his side. “Did Valentino say something that made you search for this?”

Silence was all he got back. And it was somehow louder than his own static noises at this point, meaning the deer could only chuckle to himself when he finally got it. His voice was partially infected by the legions of spirits and forces under his control, only to devolve back into his unfiltered tones. Raw. Oh, how _stupid_ he'd been.  
“Heh... hehe... I see...“  
“Al...?” Angel nearly whispered, clutching his multiple hands to his chest.  
“Don't. I think this conversation is over, _dear,_ ” Alastor hissed, the emphasis on that final word laced with venom. “It's more than obvious to me now that I have made a _mistake_ regarding us.”  
“What...?”  
“Quite amusing, isn't it? To have made such a _fool_ of myself for your sake with my clumsy attempts at being... close. For this _silly_ notion that we could be 'together'. But it's clear I was wrong in even trying if _this_ is how I have been repaid for taking a chance on you.”

“W-Wait, hold on a sec!” Angel implored, reaching out. “Maybe I...”  
“No, I'm _done_ listening to you! You will listen to _me,_ instead of just _screaming_ about how you're the only one who has been wronged!” Alastor snarled, whirling around on the spot and shuddering the air around him with a screech. “I opened myself to you in a way that I never had to _anyone_ before... I _trusted_ that you would help me, that we could make something work. Yet despite all the efforts I went to, to see if being with you really _was_ what I thought it could be... you come back with these _accusations_ , more willing to believe the words of a pervert and an abuser who sees you as nothing more than a _fucking_ toy!”

Angel whimpered, tears beading in his eyes as the charged air was now pressing down on his chest. He took a step back, the uncharacteristic curse almost physically hurting from just how much rage was boiling behind it.  
“I didn't _wanna_ listen to 'im!” he stumbled in an excuse, a pathetic effort to explain himself. “But h-he just gets to ya an'... a-an' what those stories said an'...”  
“ _Enough_ , Angel Dust,” the Radio Demon growled, turning away as though he couldn't stand to look at the spider any more. His own chest was aching, reaching up a hand to clutch at it as the reality of what was happening was now only just catching up. His voice wavered. “If your _owner_ can make you turn against someone you claim to... to _love_ that easily, then we have nothing more to say to each other. And I will not stand for being made a _mockery_ of. Just... go.”  
“...Alasto-”  
“I said _**GO!**_ ” Alastor boomed, baring his hands like claws as his smile had now become a full on snarling gnashing of his teeth. “Go and _crawl_ back into that _insect's_ lap like the good little _slut_ he says you are! It's all you've ever done before and I have no doubt you'd be right at home there again! _**LEAVE!**_ ”

The demon was left panting from how much effort he'd thrown into those words, but it had the intended effect as reality distorted around him. Angel's phone fell to the floor from his hands as he reeled back, shielding his face as though the yelling was powerful enough to bowl him over. Only when he felt safe to lower them did he see that Alastor had turned away from him, folding his arms.  
Angel couldn't muster up anything else to say. And it was obvious that the other demon wasn't interested in listening even if he did. Feeling his cheeks wet with tears of weakness and his shame, and the pain in his chest stinging worse than any injury, the arachnid didn't even try. It still hadn't changed anything, hadn't disproven the stories... it only meant he'd hurt Alastor in the process.  
The arachnid dragged his feet towards the door, his breathing hollow and uneven as he touched the handle to obey the instruction without a word. He only had one place left to go now.

The door opened and closed. And Alastor was left alone.

The Radio Demon winced, letting out a held breath as he clutched at where his heart would be beneath his shirt. He'd never felt an ache like it, almost as if it were threatening to stop from how intense this new sensation felt. This sense of... _betraya_ l. Of being left with _nothing_ when it was all over.  
Was this how _she_ had felt back then, even if his reasons for doing so had been justified? Was this how _Angel_ had felt when they had first argued and kissed? He hated it. And he imagined they had too.  
But he had not been the one to believe the lies of an overlord. He hadn't been the one to accuse Angel of having other intentions to their relationship. He had _no_ reason to feel this way, he should have been _content_ it was done. He should've been back to _normal_ after this near-month of pandemonium with his feelings.  
Angel had turned on him. And he didn't need him any more. That was all there was to it.

But, as he should have known for decades, things were never simple. And that proved true here when a rather loud glitch of digital noises pierced the air from the floor where Angel had dropped his phone.  
Alastor saw it lying there, the discarded device still stuck open on the incriminating evidence that he was convinced had somehow got it wrong. The subtle energy he could sense from it, shuddering around the phone was... familiar. Like he'd encountered such a thing before during a time he couldn't remember clearly.  
The screen flashed, lines of distortion and signal tearing covering it as Alastor blinked as he peered at the display, seeing a myriad of other colours and patterns manifesting through the static. And a familiar one, one that reminded him of a... face? He'd seen around the city before, he was certain. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost say that it looked like...

Oh, _no._

When it stopped as suddenly as it had started, Alastor's eyes widened. He may have just made a terrible mistake.


	5. Step Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...yeah."  
> That was all Valentino was waiting on, all he needed to complete the final part of his machinations. But with Alastor now aware of his deception in order to create this rift, the Radio Demons conspires with a partner of his own to set things right.

As the clock passed midnight, Angel felt drained.

He'd been wandering ever since the argument, aimlessly drifting through the city and keeping to himself before he'd got here. A hollow cavern had begun to swell within him now he was before a door that he couldn't summon the energy to knock on, even though he had no choice in the matter.  
Everything had culminated in him being stood in the last place he wanted to be, back where he started with no way out. And no Alastor.

But what else could he do after he'd made it all go so _very_ wrong? The boss had been right the whole time, and Alastor hadn't done enough to disprove the evidence of his intentions. The star knew they'd agreed to a trial run that had no guarantee of success... but that didn't make it hurt any less by having it exposed as a sham.  
The spider sniffed, a numbing cold washing over him as he forced one of his hands to touch the door. He'd been here plenty of times before now, sometimes of his own choice, sometimes against his will. But he knew it well. The penthouse suite at the top of the Aphrodite Tower, a stone's throw away from the Studio. A tower that belonged to Valentino.

Angel cringed, gritting his fangs and squeezing his eyes shut to prevent another spill of tears from making him look even more of a mess. He didn't want to be here, he _shouldn't_ be here, repeating the same warnings he'd given himself that he'd subsequently ignored when they met at that damn cafe. But he couldn't go back to the Hotel. Not when Alastor was still there.  
His claw rapped weakly on the wood. The thudded beats of electronic music that had been pounding through the floor towards him died down in volume, his knocking somehow heard over the powerful bass. Angel closed in on himself, bottom lip trembling as he braced himself for a round of 'told you so's' and punishments.  
But when the entrance to the suite finally opened, he wasn't given that. He briefly flicked his eyes up as the shadow of Valentino enveloped his own. The pimp was in a loose red silk robe, exposing the pale purple of his body underneath. It was adorned with the signature tufts of fur that his usual getup had around his wrists and neck and the contradicting scents of sugar and smoke drifted into the hall, making the arachnid sniff. Same as always.

“Oh, Angel Cakes!~” Val beamed, bending over his best like a looming pillar. “I thought I wasn't gonna see you until the shoot, didn't expect you here tonight.”  
“...yeah,” Angel said, his voice raspy and lethargic as if he couldn't work up the effort to stop staring at the floor. The moth took note of it, getting down on one of his knees so that he was at almost eye-level with his prize star.  
“Everythin' okay, baby?” he hummed, using one of his lower claws to touch Angel's side. The contact made the white demon flinch, his quivering lip doing so even more. His gut twisted as he heard Val imitate a look of surprise and a gentle gasp as though he'd 'figured out' what the problem was. Not that he needed to. He'd outright _warned_ this would happen in the first place.

  
“Oh, sugar... I'm so sorry...” Val hummed, extending out a few more of his arms to tug Angel close to him in an embrace. Angel didn't even seem to react, his wet eyes vacant when his cheek was pressed into the overlord's warm shoulder. He felt the moth's claws running over his back in circles, nostalgically so. It had been a long time since Val had been this... gentle with him.  
“Come on, Angel, come with me,” the boss said in a calming tone, pulling the spider with him as he stood back up and re-entered his suite. “I was just with Voxy for the night, but I ain't got a problem with you crashin' with us.”  
Angel nodded weakly, his mismatched eyes still fixated on the ground as he dragged his feet in Val's wake. The source of the music grew louder as he was led to the living area of the apartment, guided to sit on a long lounge seat that curved around a glass table. Crimson wisps of smoke from used cigarette butts rose from within a mess of white powder and condoms. Some of them used.

Though seeing the details of his boss' evening made his nausea worse, Angel allowed himself to lean back into the seat and give his straining limbs a chance to relax. He couldn't focus on anything in particular, wanting to hug his legs towards himself but knowing he should avoid putting his boots up onto the upholstery. He'd gotten in trouble for that before.  
His ears picked up on the tapping of a mobile device, drawing his attention to his left at the other end of the couch. Vox was sat there with his legs crossed in a lazy posture, his suit shirt and tie unbuttoned and unfastened as he checked whatever was on his screen. He sensed Angel looking his way, his actual screen twitching to lock onto the spider with a distorted glitch in his voice.  
“Evening, Angie,” he grinned, the waveform in his left eye fluctuating as he spoke. Angel simply nodded once in response before his focus was lost. He'd had enough... personal interaction with Vox before to know he didn't feel like talking to him. His daze was only broken when he felt the weight on the couch shift with someone sitting to his right.

“There we go. That's better, ain't it?” Valentino purred as he got comfortable, using two of his hands to tuck Angel close to his side. “Can I get you anythin', honey? A drink? Somethin' else to take the edge off?”  
Angel shook his head only barely, eliciting a concerned cooing noise from his boss. The moth reached down with another of his claws, holding onto the arachnid's cheek to make him look his way. His eyes narrowed in inspection, though his usual seedy grin was replaced by one that was... caring.   
If he had the energy, Angel would've sneered at it for being fake. But after tonight, he wasn't sure what to believe any more. Maybe it wasn't this time.  
“He didn't hurt you, did he?”  
Angel's voice remained as blank as he felt.  
“No.”  
“Good,” the overlord nodded, leaning down to press his lips onto his spider's forehead. The warm touch made Angel tense, his hands clutching as hard as they could into his fur. Valentino sighed, rubbing his star's upper shoulders as if to keep him warm. He paused for only a moment before he spoke up again.

“I won't pry into what went down, Angel Cakes. But I'm glad you listened to me and got outta there before he did somethin' nasty.” He stroked a thumb over the markings on the spider's face, tilting his head. “You wanna stay with me? I wouldn't want you back there if he's still around.”  
He looked into Val's eyes as it became clear his options were limited. Like he'd decided himself, he wasn't sure if he could face going back to the Hotel in the wake of the... break-up.  
Holy shit, a _break-up._   
The weight of putting a name to it hit hard, causing Angel to blink rapidly to stop himself from weeping again. That would've been the worst thing he could do in the presence of the boss. He rubbed his eyes and sniffed, doing his best to summon the dam on his feelings and stop them getting out again. He answered with one word.  
“...yeah.”

And that was what Valentino had been waiting for. With Angel still unable to look at him properly for long, his smile grew wide and toothy, briefly shooting a knowing look Vox's way. The tech demon seemed to return it with a soft smirk of his own, only barely audible through the distortions of the music suddenly kicking into a drop.  
“No worries, baby. Daddy'll keep you safe.”  
The statement was punctuated with a gentle raking of fingertips around Angel's neck, making him tremble hard at having one of his weak spots exploited. He should've hated this, in any other situation, he _would've_ hated this... but he had no real fight to put up against it now. Wasn't the first time he'd let Val have his way.  
Maybe this was where he belonged after all. Maybe he really was as dumb as he felt.

Angel didn't know how much time passed after that. He was allowed to remain sober despite his absent mind and neither Valentino or Vox had tried to pressure him into anything yet, even though he was convinced it was a matter of time. Instead, the two overlords talked among themselves, enjoying their substances and the music while the arachnid remained staring into space at the side of his contract holder.   
At least, that's how it started. It was only when Valentino had sat back down after fixing himself a strong shot of some foul smelling liquor that things got worse.   
Much worse.

“You know...” the moth started, reaffirming his grip on Angel's shoulder and allowing his long digits to start trailing down to the beginnings of his spider's 'bust'. “I have to give you credit, sugar. The fact you didn't just take my word for it and actually looked up the dirt on Radiohead yourself... pretty smart of you.”  
Angel's eyes opened wider than before, raising from his slouched position to be more upright. Wait a minute... how did Val know that he'd been searching things up on Alastor? Before he had a chance to voice that question, he was interrupted with more of his boss' musings.  
“And I'm sure you were thorough about it too. I suppose you have to be, hm? Lots of shit that ain't got anythin' to back it up on there.”

The star's stomach dropped, resting two of his hands on it. He wanted to put it down to just being mentally messed up at the moment, seeing things that weren't there in the moth's speech. But...  
“Whaddya talkin' about...?” he felt he had to ask.  
“Just sayin' how it is, baby,” Val murred, his hand sliding even lower to squeeze Angel's chest while another downed his shot. “With so much history surroundin' that monster, you could've _easily_ come across stuff that ain't real.”  
“...ain't real?” he repeated in a whisper, even as he grimaced from the grope.  
“Voxy knows all about that kinda thing. Don't you, sugar?”  
“He's right, Angie,” the other demon confirmed, brandishing his hands with a flex of his fingers. “Think about it. These days, misinformation can be so _easily_ spread around without even having to lift a finger. Like the legends of the Radio Demon? People _love_ a good story, even if it's based on nothing more than rumour. And they love it so much that some of them even go out of their way to _make_ it true.”

The tech demon opened up one of his hands, a holographic image of an audio waveform dancing between his digits as his sneering grin spread wider over his screen.  
“So, maybe sometimes they take something old...”

_\- Well, you've been a fine man to me in places stranger than the Club kitchen..._

Angel gasped as the audio recording of Elena's voice on the broadcast hit his ears, quickly shut off by Vox clenching his fist around the display as if to snuff it out. He opened up his opposite hand, summoning another one.  
“And combine it with something more recent...”

_\- Whenever you need me..._

And Alastor's voice. From the last time he'd said that at dinner...  
“And the rest, as they say, is history. Well... history according to _them_ , at least,” he finished, watching with sick delight as a look of absolute horror began to crease Angel's face. And he wasn't done, stretching out both of his arms to create another screen that shone a flare of bright blue light around the room.  
“Some even have a personal stake in keeping their narrative alive,” Vox hummed, turning his hands in circles to load a page of text. Even through the translucence, Angel recognised it as the newspaper scan he'd found. “Those who run the engines tailor results to what _they_ think you need to see more than what you actually _want_. And that just opens the door to abuse it for their own ends. Now, wouldn't that just be _awful?_ ”  
As Vox's fingers twitched, the text on the scan began to change. Words and phrasing being replaced and altered almost immediately, accompanied by the screen hitching and freezing up as the demon's powers over the code got to work. The same visual artefacts and slowdown that had been on Angel's phone.  
It hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Oh, _fuck...!_ ”  
Angel couldn't believe it as it all fell into place. Everything that had happened, _everything_ he'd learned and everything that had lead up to this point... it was _them_. The reason why Val had planted the thought in his head at the cafe through his false friendliness, the reason his phone had been locking up and freezing when he'd been searching for information. And the reason why Alastor had insisted he'd never said what the broadcast claimed he did.   
The overlords been working together to make him spilt from the Radio Demon. Val had used his knowledge of his whore's insecurities to plant the thought he was being manipulated and Vox had used his technological powers to _actually_ manipulate the data of what he found to make the doubts even stronger. It was all a con. And he'd fallen for it completely.

“You... set me up...?”  
“Well, what choice did you leave me?” Val snickered, his grip on Angel's arms now hard enough to pin the spider in place. “Now, don't get it wrong, Angel Cakes. I wasn't lyin' about what the Radio Demon did, neither was Vox. But there's a lotta missin' details about _how_ they happened. And even though you know your place is with _me_ , I knew you'd find it real hard to pry yourself from him if you got too entrenched in what you'd got goin' on.”  
“Which is where I came in,” Vox clarified, shuffling closer to Angel's other side and leaning in as close as he could. He could almost feel the fear radiating in the air through his antennae as the whore tried to back away. It was _delicious_. “I kept tabs on what you were sending, what you were _saying_ , everything that little box could give me. And data might as well be crude oil from how valuable it is to me... adding and changing any records you found was child's play after that. Worked like a charm, didn't it, Angie?”

The two demons began to laugh with each other as Angel clutched at his hair, floored by what he'd heard. God _damn_ it, the things he'd said to Al, what he'd accused him of...! He needed to make this right, he needed to apologise and try and patch this up before his own mistakes ruined everything _again_. But just as the arachnid had summoned enough energy to rise from his seat, Valentino interrupted him before he'd stood up properly.  
“Where do you think you're goin', baby?” he growled, yanking Angel back by his shoulder hard enough to make the joint ache. The star tumbled back onto the couch, leaving him exposed to the moth's next move as he suddenly lunged over his 'prey'.   
Angel yelped as Val pinned two of his arms above his head and the others by his sides, just as the pimp forced the rest of his body between his property's legs like it was missionary. Eyes wide with panic, watching as his boss' sharp teeth gleamed when he arched his neck down to whisper in the effeminate one's ear.

“Remember what I said? That if you managed to _scrape_ your way here that you'd owe me a _big_ apology for what you did?” he hissed, his voice tinged with a rattling distortion fitting his insect nature. “Daddy's in the mood to collect...”  
“N-No! Lemme go!” Angel protested, struggling under Val's weight and ultimately getting nowhere. “I need to go back, I-!”  
“You're not goin' _anywhere_ , little itsy bitsy~” crooned the pimp, lashing his slimy tongue against the side of the arachnid's head. “I asked if you were gonna stay with me and you said _yes_. Far as I'm concerned, you _agreed_ to this. Besides... much as I admire that you gotta hell of a swing on you, those claws fuckin' _hurt_.”

To emphasise his point, Val's own clenched harder around Angel's wrists, drawing deep lines in the fur and almost threatening to break the skin. His star whined in pain, screwing his eyes shut as he continued to rage against his bondage to get out. Maybe he could still run away, maybe he could still get back to Al and fix this, tell him that...  
He felt Val grind himself down on him to snap him out of his thoughts, causing a wave of revulsion to shudder through his core. He strained and growled with effort from behind his teeth, but still couldn't break free. As he went limp again, Val darkly smirked as he looked up towards Vox.  
“Don't worry, I won't wear him out too much, darlin'.”  
“Good,” the tech demon groaned, adjusting the fit of his trousers for more than obvious reasons. “About time I got _something_ from doing all of this.”  
“Hey, you'll get your chance for your end of the deal soon enough,” Val assured him, forcing another uncomfortable plea out of his captive with a hard push into the seat. “Consider this a bonus to sweeten things a little more...”

Angel didn't know what they were talking about and he ultimately didn't care. All he could think about was how, yet again, he'd been the stupid one. Never mind Alastor being clumsy with handling something as important as this, it had _always_ been his fault when something went wrong. He wanted to talk it all back, to change what he'd said and what had happened so that Alastor would save him again, please Alastor, save me, fucking _save me..._  
But in Hell, it was useless. Regrets were meaningless in a realm where you suffered the consequences of the hand you were dealt or the one that you played. But it didn't stop Angel crying out as Val's robe slipped away from his shoulders and he began to tear away his star's clothing.

“Al...!”

* * *

Alastor knew who his targets should be. The only thing he needed was confirmation.

As he had said to Cherri when they had last spoken in person, he didn't just make a move on Hell's tyrants when he felt like it. It needed to be planned and in his control for maximum effect and to prevent too much shake up within the hierarchy. Just like with his sprees in the human world, Alastor didn't like leaving anything to chance if something about it could come back to bite him later.  
Though that didn't mean he wanted to abide by those self-set rules. He'd much rather take out his anger on those he sensed were responsible for all of this. From what he had seen on Angel's phone, he had a gut feeling that a particular demon was involved in the falsified version of his own voice, even if he would never be able to work out how. And if _he_ was involved, then Valentino's influence was all but confirmed.

But ultimately... he needed to make amends. Alastor was fully aware he'd done exactly what Husk had warned him _not_ to do. He'd spoken without thinking, out of anger and wounded pride when Angel had come to him with accusations he was sabotaging the deal for his own gain. It had embarrassed him, it had made him feel like an idiot for even bothering.  
But now knowing that Angel had been tricked to believe that, those feelings were now replaced by a strange urgency to set things right, to take back how cruel he had been and get back on track. He paused thinking on it. The Radio Demon doing the _right thing?_ He would've laughed if the situation wasn't so dire.

Alastor's walk through the streets was purposeful and powerful in his stride. His charming smile was only faintly there, his eyes narrowed and glowing with hisses of static blaring out at every step. The demons in his way had always fled and hid before at seeing him, but now they were outright running away in a panic at his sour mood. He allowed himself a brief smirk at that. Maybe he hadn't lost _all_ of his edge yet.  
But he wasn't concerned with any of them. He was only after one demon in particular, one who had managed to maintain control of their turf in this part of town despite being most well known for being a chaotic loose cannon. Sometimes almost literally given her passion for explosives.  
He needed Cherri Bomb. As the only one outside of his employer that Angel was in regular contact with, Alastor needed what she knew and what she could do if he was going to get Angel back to the Hotel and by his side. She'd not been stirring up too much trouble since the last time they spoke, meaning that he had been starting from scratch when trying to find her.

  
Luckily, the deer soon found himself in the halls of the location he'd been given as Cherri's whereabouts, thanks to weak-willed demons who had been too scared to turn down his request for information. It was an inconspicuous apartment block, nestled among many others like it on the darker side of town, littered with marks of burn damage, broken windows and the tell tale signs of blood which marked it as a site of many a brawl before now.  
While it was fitting for a fire starter like Cherri, Alastor felt being here was almost as unpleasant as being in the Studio. But he had little time to dwell on it. Now on the top floor of the block and shooting an intense glare at any resident who peered out from behind their doors, his ears twitched when he came to a stop outside room 409.  
From what he could hear with a cocking of his head to hone in on the signal, the muffled thuds of heavy drums and electronic bass confirmed he was in the right place. He tapped the door twice with his cane and waited patiently, vaguely aware of footsteps approaching it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you're wanting the rent talk again, but...”   
Cherri's sentence faltered when she opened the door, her previously relaxed posture stiffening right up when her single eye rose to meet Alastor's taller height. The Radio Demon's eyes squinted with another crimson glow, causing the cyclops to jump back in alarm.  
“Shit, _you...?_ ” she blurted, watching as Alastor walked in unimpeded and pushed the door closed behind him with his foot.  
“Delighted as ever, Cherri,” he commented, though his serious tone suggested he was not in the mood for being the gentleman type right now. As if to prove that fact, he thrust his hand out towards the speakers her dreadful music was blasting out of and the system suddenly sparked and crumpled in on itself to shut off.  
“Hey, what the fuck?!” Cherri groaned, baring her teeth in a growl at him. “You can't just barge in here and break my stuff like that!”  
“I think you'll find I can and I _will_ ,” said the Radio Demon, barely exposing his own yellow fangs for a moment in response. “Time is short. I'd prefer we get straight to business.”

Cherri folded her arms, somehow working up the bravado to act unperturbed by the demon's casual use of his abilities. She rested her weight on her left foot, not really sure what he was getting at yet. Why, of all people, would the Radio Demon come to _her_ to talk?  
“You never struck me as a guy who'd hunt down someone who's _mid-tier_ on the food chain,” she remarked with a curl of her lip, tossing her head back to get her thick hair out of her face. “Overlords not fun any more?”  
“Get all of your tripe quips out of your system, _please_ ,” Alastor instructed her, dismissing his cane with a twirl of it in his hand. “I have very little patience for it and I am already _loathe_ to be standing in this squalor as it is.”  
“Ouch,” Cherri winced. “Funny how the _Radio_ Demon's a buzzkill...”  
“ _Enough,_ ” he snapped, the room seeming to actually turn darker at his words, whispers of ghoulish voices bouncing off the walls before he returned to normal with an adjustment of his monocle. “I came here because I need your help with something important. You were the only person I thought to turn to about it. I won't waste my time if you're not going to listen or take this seriously, but I assure you that it _will_ be in your interest to.”

With that rumble in his timbre when he said that last part, Cherri wasn't sure whether he was just being moody or trying to turn it into a threat if she didn't help. She huffed with an obvious scowl.  
“Alright, I'll bite,” she eventually agreed, pushing her speculation aside to get some concrete answers. “What's all this about?”  
“As I said, I require your aid,” Alastor replied, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a mobile phone between his first finger and thumb. Cherri's face softened at seeing it when he spoke again. “With this, for starters.”  
Alastor casually tossed the device through the air towards the cyclops, making her almost fumble the catch before she had it securely in both hands. She looked it over, tilting it this way and that. She'd recognise that case anywhere.  
“...this is Angie's phone.”  
“Yes, it is.”  
“And why do you have it?”

The male demon's hesitant silence on the matter didn't fill Cherri with confidence, feeling a pang of worry in her chest as she asked more questions.  
“What happened? Where is he?”  
Alastor opened his mouth to respond, his eyes drifting towards the ground. That only made Cherri feel worse.  
“We had a... what happened was...” he stumbled, unsure how to explain. If he just told the truth on what he'd shouted at the spider, it wouldn't do any favours for his partner's friend's temper. However, it was all the cyclops needed to draw her own conclusions on what had gone down.

“...oh, you son of a _bitch!_ ” Cherri exclaimed, raising her volume as she suddenly started advancing on Alastor with an accusing finger. “Start talking! What the hell did you do to him?!”  
“Cherri, we do not have _time_ to talk,” he insisted, leaning his head back as she continued to shout. “I told you that I came here to-”  
“Oh, no, I got _all_ the time in the world to chat, Speakers! I _warned_ you! I told you I wouldn't hesitate to _fuck your shit_ if you messed things up!”  
“Cherri-”  
“Shut up and tell me what you did!” she screamed. “What did you do to Angie?!”

Without even hesitating or thinking in her frustration, the demoness suddenly swung her fist at him. She made contact with Alastor's left jaw, flinging his head to the opposite side as he stumbled back a step. With her anger and adrenaline keeping her pumped, she stood there with her fists still tight as though she was going to hit him again until she got answers.  
Or at least, at first. Alastor suddenly cracked his neck, twitching his head towards Cherri with his eyes fluctuating into radio dials. In a movement too quick for her to register, he'd clenched his hand in a clawing motion and she was immediately held in place at her wrists and ankles from the summoned black tendrils of his power. He used his other hand to rub a thumb over where she had hit him.  
“I do not have time for this...” he hissed, his voice low, grating and dripping with distortions, even as he admired her bravery at lashing out at him. He leaned in until their faces were in breathing distance “If you want to waste both our afterlives flapping your gums with threats you can't fulfil and insults that won't stick, then try and remember who the _**hell**_ you're talking to. Alternatively, you can listen to what I have to say and help me _save_ Angel from getting hurt. _**Do you understand?**_ _”_

As much as her protective instincts for Angel wanted to lay another few more punches into him, Cherri knew she was outmatched here. One of the only reason she'd survived this long was from knowing when to back off. She strained against the tight hold on her limbs from Alastor's powers, finally spitting out a reply.  
“Alright, alright, okay!” she conceded, the tentacles immediately unwinding themselves and dissipating into nothing with her admission. Alastor himself also relaxed, though his face was still grim and barely holding onto his signature smile. He turned away from her to straighten his coat and to disguise the breather he needed from using his power so suddenly.  
“On his device...” he began, causing Cherri to refocus her attention on that rather than risk being given another example of his strength. “Angel was listening to something, an old recording. Play it for me.”

Cherri blinked as she did as she was instructed, unlocking the phone and being presented with some sort of webpage about an old newspaper. She squinted to look at the date.  
“1933...?” she read aloud. “Why was he looking at this?”  
“Never mind why,” Alastor interrupted. “Just play it.”  
She supposed it wasn't her place to ask questions right now. A second or two later, she'd found the broadcast link and turned up the volume on the phone so that it could be heard.

_\- Good evening, ladies and gentle-demons. I'm coming to you live from the Red Club upon our own Envy Square, about to introduce the star of our show tonight! I assure you, you'll want to stay tuned. Some of you may even have a personal interest in our performance..._

_**\- *DOOR OPENS*** _

_\- Hello, my dear Elena! I'd hoped to catch you tonight when you were alone._

_\- Oh, Al! Well, aren't you just being sweet checking on me... I was actually wanting the same thing, honey. I got some things I want to talk about._

_\- I suppose that makes sense. Much better away from prying eyes, don't you think?_

_\- Well, you've been a fine man to me in places stranger than the Club kitchen... It means we won't get interrupted. You see, something's come up and I-_

_\- * **UNKNOWN SOUNDS***_

_\- What the...? Hey, did you do something to the door?_

_\- It wouldn't make my task any easier if I allowed you to just leave, would it?_

_\- What are you talking about? I'm not in the mood for jokes._

_\- Elena, if I were joking, I would be laughing right now. I am_ not _laughing._

_\- Al, I... don't understand._

_\- Dispense with your affectionate pet names, my dear. I thought it would be rather obvious as to what this is about. I'm just merely making a pre-emptive move._

_\- Al...?_

_\- Did you_ really _think I wouldn't find out what you were planning? That once you'd gotten what you wanted from me, you were priming things to dispose of our partnership, like all the others?_

_\- Al, sweetie, who told you that? I wasn't going to-_

_\- Your hired muscle said all I need to know. They're rather weak-willed when they have a blade to their neck! I believe you've miscalculated in your ambition. Your hubris, one might say!_

_\- What the fuck are you talking about? Open the door!_

_\- Now, dear, if you won't remain still, I can't be held responsible for what comes ne-_

Cherri shut the audio off early, sensing where it was going before it progressed to the sounds of inevitable screaming and gore. She'd heard broadcasts similar to that during her own time here to know. She shivered, looking back towards Alastor as he glanced over his shoulder. Listening to that one again, the _true_ version, seemed to have dulled his permanent grin even more.  
The truth of the situation was only half of what Angel had claimed to have found out. Elena _had_ been his first real business partner in the past, sensing the strength of his raw power not long after he had arrived in Hell. But she thought that she could use it for her own ends, as overlords always did, and she'd been planning to sever ties when needed. Literally. Thankfully, Alastor had been smart enough to be cautious about what he was getting into.  
He'd found out relatively quickly about her past history with benefactors and partners, about how they had all vanished right after she had secured another huge gain for her area of control. So he'd made plans to get to her before she did the same to him, feigning innocence until he could create that broadcast to expose her to the realm.  
The devouring part was just for his own enjoyment and palate.

  
There was a sense of irony in all this now he thought about it. Alastor's first kill in Elena was from him confronting her over hidden ambitions to betray him after she had gotten what she wanted. Planning to catch him off-guard and take him out... it mirrored what Angel had feared from _him_ almost perfectly.  
“What was that...?” Cherri asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “It sounded like you and some... other lady.”  
“My first broadcast,” Alastor answered plainly. “The one that got me noticed when I manifested. Angel asked about it and he must have started looking into it himself. Then he started acting strangely... paranoid that I would do to him what I did to her.”  
“I can't say I'm surprised...” Cherri admitted, frowning at knowing that it was just like Angel to fret over people's intentions. It was a worry she'd heard plenty of times before. “But can you blame him? That's pretty damning evidence of what you've done to other demons.”  
“It would be, were it not for the fact that that is _not_ the version that Angel was listening to when he confronted me. That confirms it...”

Confusion and suspicion sparked in Cherri's brain. Damn it, Angie, what had you gotten yourself into this time?  
“What do you mean?”   
“Angel played that broadcast to me earlier tonight. And it _was_ my voice and yet... _not_ my voice,” he struggled to explain, unsure of the terminology. “I do not know how, but someone changed what I said in that recording and it caused our... problem. Made it seem like I made plans to kill her first with a fake relationship and Angel thought the same.”  
“You're saying someone doctored the sound? Just for Angie?” Cherri clarified, allowing Alastor a gentle sigh of relief at not having to think up technical terms for these things.   
“If that means they changed it, then yes. I couldn't be sure until I heard it again, I can't work those blasted things...”

Cherri was still frowning as she shut the phone off, but some of her aggression had eased. For the moment, it seemed like it had been an outside influence that had caused this fallout rather than primarily Alastor himself. The real question now was who would have the sway and the motive to go to the trouble?  
“Do you have any idea on who could've done it? I know Valentino seems a likely culprit, but he's not a techy guy as far as I know.”  
“Oh, I know who would be capable of this...” Alastor growled, baring his teeth and flexing his fingers with a crackle of demonic energy. “This has Vox's _stench_ all over it.”  
“Wait... the TV guy?” she asked with a blink. “I've seen his face around town before.”  
“Yes. Absolute power over any form of technology, and I know he's also a close associate of Valentino. It's more than possible they worked together to make this happen somehow... and I _helped_ them when I drove Angel straight back to his clutches...”

“What...?” Cherri mumbled, feeling her fists starting to tighten again. “You did _what?_ ”  
“When he brought this up, I felt so foolish for not doing enough to convince him that I... care, angry that he would be so _easily_ swayed by a creature who treats him like _chaf._ I snapped at him... badly. And he left to who knows where.”  
The deer stopped to take in a deep breath, keep himself under control as his noises blared.   
“It is my fault. Even if I am new to these... dealings, there is little excuse for what I said to him. Though I remain of the firm opinion that we're all deserving of being down here, something about Angel makes me... hesitate.”

News of Angel in Valentino's clutches would've been enough to devolve Cherri's mood into lashing out again after what they'd spoken about before, but something about the way Alastor said that stopped her. The Radio Demon's head had lowered a fraction, his smile now only implied by the lines at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't imagine that many people had seen him like that before.  
“Alastor...?”  
“If my words have caused him to come to harm, then I need to... for lack of a better term, _redeem_ myself,” he murmured. “He deserves _that_ at least.”  
Cherri sighed, actually daring a flicker of a smile herself.  
“Hotel's rubbing off on you, huh?”  
“Perish the thought,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Except maybe when it comes to him.”

The cyclops nodded slowly as she unfolded her arms, resting her hands on her hips. Even if seeing his powers first-hand had proven his reputation in the city was well deserved, she could tell that Alastor was genuinely wanting to help Angel after admitting it was his mistake. She couldn't stay mad at him for that. And if he wanted her help getting it done, then she was for all it.  
“Alright. So what's the plan?” Cherri finally asked. “I know you didn't come here just to act scary and let me work a phone for you, grandpa.”  
Alastor chuckled weakly at that, finally turning to face her with that grin of his partially returning over his features slowly.

“First things first,” he hummed, resting his hands behind his back. “I doubt that Valentino would give me chance to enter the Studio again after the first time. Where else could Angel have gone besides there if that creature wanted him?”  
“Well, there's the guy's personal apartment at the Aphrodite Tower,” Cherri answered. “I've picked Angie up from there a few times. The place is usually _loaded_ with guards and security though, more than the Studio. If he's in there, it won't be easy getting him out.”  
“Not to worry, my dear,“ Alastor nodded, summoning his cane again and tapping it into the floor. “I'm sure we could provide a fitting thing for them to focus on.”  
“That being?”  
“Well, I was hoping if I could count on your assistance in causing a bit of a ruckus...” he suggested, idly pointing two fingers towards her speaker system and reversing the damage so they were playing her music again. “An... _explosive_ distraction, if you will?”  
Cherri licked her lips. A chance to raise some hell with one of the realm's most powerful beings in a jailbreak for her bestie? Say no more.

“Oh, now you're on _my_ frequency, Radio Boy...”


	6. Counter-attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentino assumed it was over. With Angel was back where he belonged and with no way of getting out this time, the plan had been a resounding success to put his affairs back in order. It was supposed to be a done deal. But he hadn't counted on Alastor wanting to conduct a plot of his own.

The clock was approaching two in the morning, a prime period for activity in the city on any other day. But tonight, they had little time to waste.

With the plan to perform their breaking and entering set, Alastor and Cherri had used the slower method of moving on foot to reach the Aphrodite Tower grounds. Given how he was expecting to be going against two overlords even with her assistance, the Radio Demon needed to save his strength and not use his powers prematurely. Truly a downside of using blood magic, even if the results were impressive.  
As he and Cherri came to a stop at a street corner just metres away from the gates to the Tower, it was obvious that she hadn't been exaggerating about the security. Rows of burly demons flanked either side of the ornate twisted iron, forming a protective grid around any possible entrance point for people who wanted to get a taste of Valentino's good life. The cyclops' eye narrowed as she assessed the odds.  
“Never seen this many of them here before...” she murmured. “They've really doubled down for some reason.”  
“A wise decision if they're expecting me,” Alastor remarked, tightening his gloves with a pull on his wrist. “No doubt that drawing me out for a fight is another part of their scheme.”

Cherri nodded as she began to check the bag slung over her shoulder, the dark red satchel filled with some of her finest creations when it came to firepower. Incendiary, smoke, flare, straight up C4... she'd come packing the heat she felt Valentino deserved. She snickered, balancing one of her trademark cherries between three fingers.  
“Oh, I've been waiting for a chance to stick it to the rat, even if it ain't face to face...” she grinned. “But that's what _you're_ here for, right Radiohead?”  
“Remember what the plan is,” Alastor reminded her, gesturing to the guards with his cane. “You're to keep them distracted and unable to maintain their positions, leaving me a chance to help Angel escape. You said that Valentino's quarters are on the top floor?”  
“Yep, same as the Studio. Guy must have a complex for looking down on people or something...”

Cherri sighed as she came out from around the corner, re-tightening the strap on her bag to ensure it wouldn't come loose with what she was about to unleash. As giddy as the prospect of starting some more chaos would normally make her, she was actually quite cool about it as she ruffled her hair. She had to make sure this worked, for Angie's sake.   
As she began to idly toss and catch the cherry in her hand, beginning her stride forward toward the mass of guards, Cherri looked back to her partner in crime.  
“Wait for the signal, then you can slip past them without being seen.”  
“What signal?” Alastor asked with a glitching frequency accompanying his head tilt.  
“Trust me, you won't miss it!” Cherri grinned, swaying her hips with every step she took towards her opponents. “Just make sure you get him out of there... okay?”

The deer nodded, remaining where he was behind the cover of the corner as the demoness walked away from him. His smile twitched up one side of his face at seeing her march into the proverbial lion's den without a single hint of nerves or hesitation. Angel really did have a solid friend in her.

“Hey, meatbags! I hear you guys know how to show a girl a good time!”  
The guard's heads darted upwards at the sound of Cherri's voice, hands resting on their belts in preparation to use their weapons against any aggressor. But being confronted with the sight of what was only a curvy broad made the grunts chuckle among themselves, gesturing to their friends and bumping shoulders about how stupid she was to approach.  
“Pft, you lost or something, love?” a particularly large bull demon grunted. “Studio's back _that_ way if you're wanting a piece of action from the boss.”  
“But if you're lookin' for a piece from whoever's around, I got one for you right _here..._ ” sneered another, blatantly grabbing his crotch and making Cherri roll her eye as his friends laughed along with him.

“I might be able to see pretty well, but even _I'd_ have trouble finding something that small...” she muttered with a shrug, reaching into her satchel as she stopped just a few metres short of the blockade. “I'm just interested in getting a dance partner. So I'm gonna be giving you all try outs, okay? Hope you're all quick on your feet!”  
“What the fuck are you talking about?” called a reptilian hulk from the back, loading his pistol and brandishing it at her. “You tryin' to be funny, missy?”  
Cherri's grin stretched almost ear to ear as she readied her starting move in retaliation.  
“You heard me, chumps. _Dance for me!_ ”

Before the guard could react to what she had meant, Cherri had suddenly swung her arm in a wide arc and flung a wave of miniature explosives in a crescent shape. Mere moments after they neared their targets, they set off like a wave of firecrackers, the sounds of banging and fizzling bouncing off the buildings on either side of the street.  
With her first volley now having generated a rather substantial smokescreen to hide her from view, the cyclops kept spinning with her momentum. With a slip of the hand into her bag, she lobbed another larger charge through the air, the tumbling munition hissing with its spinning lit fuse when it disappeared into the haze.  
A moment later, Cherri laughed to herself in triumph as a tremendous boom and a flash of orange light blew the cloud of smoke away from the force, accompanied by the yells of pain from her foes being tossed through the air like rag dolls. She could see how her bomb had made a decently sized crater in the road surface, sniggering as she watched the big lugs struggle to get back on their feet.

“Enough bullshit, take her out!” the bull from before bellowed, prompting him and a few of the others to unholster their guns and open fire. Having sensed it coming, Cherri dove to her left and rolled behind the cover of a vehicle, paying no attention to the bullets now zipping over her head as she checked her supplies.  
She let out a satisfied hum at finding her next phase of attack, taking out one of her incendiary grenades with one hand and her phone in the other. With a few taps of her screen, she aimed the camera towards her in a selfie pose, latching the pin to the explosive between her sharp teeth in a sultry gesture. That was going to be a good post to make later.  
She refocused her attention back on the battle, returning her mobile and fishing out another grenade. Now pulling out the pins on both and spitting them to the ground, she readied herself like a sprinter and suddenly darted out from behind her cover.

Cherri tumbled over herself in an acrobatic flip, spiralling through the air and lobbing each grenade one after the other as the air pressure from the gunfire whipped past and barely missed her limbs. As her hands touched the floor to resume her cartwheel to the other side of the street, she felt the heat of her assault against her skin when the detonations flared into life.  
The incendiary charges exploded, dousing the front of the Tower gates in flames. Yet more screams of being hit by the blast or the fire reached the cyclops' ears, almost pleasurable to hear as the inferno roared across the floor. She stopped her tumble with a scrape of her shoes, pausing behind another car as she called over her shoulder.

“A shame, dudes!” Cherri cooed, layering on the saccharine tone. “I guess some guys just can't hold their napalm!”  
“You little _bitch!_ ” one of them screamed, a burst of gunfire ricocheting off the side of the car nearest to where she was hiding. “You can't hide forever! When you come out, we're gonna tear you a new fucking hole!”  
“Oh, _are_ you now?” she cackled back, thinking this was the perfect time to tear open a new hole of her own. She'd need to time this right to get it to work, but not even the strongest of security fencing could hold up against her star of the show. She clasped onto the biggest bomb in the satchel, hoisting it out with both hands and getting adjusted to the weight.  
It was another cherry shaped charge, but one that almost as big as her chest, meaning it was perfect for the job. Cherri licked her lips as she readied herself, peering through the residual smoke and the storm of bullets for her target. She exhaled harshly, knowing she couldn't mess this up. This was her chance to get Alastor in unnoticed.

A second later, she went for it. The demoness sprinted back to where she had started on the other side of the street, keeping low to the ground and pushing her feet down as hard as she could to ramp up her speed. The guards kept firing, their aim still unsteady from the injuries they'd received and the after effects of the explosions making it difficult to see. Just what she needed.  
Cherri neared the first car but didn't roll to use it in the same way again. Instead, she jumped up onto the car's hood, the metal crumpling under her shoes from how hard she was using it as a springboard. She kept running, right up until she'd reached the apex of the slanted roof's height, then tensed her legs to leap off it like a ramp.  
As she took to the air, Cherri reared both her hands back with the bomb in place, primed and ready to detonate when it hit her intended target. As she arched her back to avoid getting shot from the volley of fire still being launched in her direction, she then swung her arms over and and in front of her to launch the explosive right at the thick metal wall of the Tower gates where the gate joints were.

The guard didn't realise where she had thrown it at first, some of them even under the impression that she'd messed up trying to lob it their way. But their confidence was short-lived when the smooth red surface of the charge impacted against the steel. And the clunk of metal on metal was the only warning anyone got before it blew.  
A colossal explosion ripped through the crowd, blasting Valentino's security off their feet and filling the street with thick black clouds. The shock wave slammed into Cherri in mid-air, sending the cyclops tumbling backwards until she landed on the roof of the car she'd jumped off.  
She hissed as she rolled off it to the ground, shielding her head until she came to a grinding stop on the road. Despite her skin being scuffed and cut by friction burns, the demoness pushed away the pain and got behind cover again with a scrabble of her legs. She dared a peek out around the side of the now thoroughly ruined car.

She'd done it. Where there used to be an impassable mass of grey metal blocking the way, a giant hole had been blasted out of it from how powerful the explosion had been. Part of her had wondered if she'd overdone it mixing up the concoction, but it was always a part she tended to ignore. She clenched her fist in victory, though fully aware that any demon she'd flung away from the epicentre wouldn't stay down for long.  
“Go!” she yelled to Alastor, the remnants of the sonic boom loud enough to make everyone's ears ring and conceal her voice. “Get inside!”  
The Radio Demon took a moment to savour the carnage that she'd wrought, allowing himself the chance to chuckle over it. It seemed he'd made the right call relying on her talents. With a parting nod to Cherri while she readied herself for the fallout of her actions, the deer dissolved into a mass of dark shadow and disappeared into the ground.

She was vaguely aware of Alastor sliding along the pavement like sentient oil-slick before the groans of her opponents getting up again snapped her back to attention.  
“Fucking... how many times are we gonna let her blow shit up?!” the reptile one hissed. “Just _shoot_ her!!”  
Cherri brushed her hair out of her eye, smiling as she checked her remaining stockpile. She still had plenty to work with for now, she just hoped that Alastor wouldn't take _too_ long in getting Angel out of the Tower. She rose up from her squatted position, bloody knees stinging but still confident in stature when she presented herself to the beaten mercenaries.

“Is that all, guys? Come on, I thought you'd at least be up for a Round Two?”

* * *

High above on the top floor of the Tower, Valentino had been watching everything through his window.

He figured that the fruit-flavoured pyromaniac would be one of a few who'd ever be brave enough to make a move on him, even though he was unsure of whether she had even found out that her friend was in his clutches again. He supposed it didn't matter, at least not from a threat standpoint. He'd just have to replace his security with a new line-up again if they were this incompetent at taking out a lone _girl_.  
The moth huffed as he turned his attention more towards the smoke rising to the skyline with his arms behind his back. He was going to pay the actual conflict no mind for now, since anything going on down there was far from his field of concern. As far as Val cared, he'd _already_ won in his scheme. But it was something that Vox didn't agree with.

“You know there's more to this than it looks, right?” the tech demon suggested, still staring down on the battlefield with his arms folded. “She's broken through the outer wall but she hasn't taken the chance to get through it. And given how shitty your guard is being, it's not like _they're_ stopping her...”  
“You think she's workin' with someone then? A distraction?” Val asked him to clarify, adjusting his heart-shaped spectacles with two of his long digits.  
“Why else would she be here? It's not like the whore could've contacted her. Someone else knows.”

Valentino supposed that Vox had a point, narrowing his eyes in thought about what the other mystery party could be. He supposed the most obvious answer would be the other end of the deal he'd promised his on-off lover, the Radio Demon teaming up with the girl and acting rashly in an assault thanks to a compromised emotional state. The pimp had to admit to himself that he was a little surprised that monster could even _have_ emotional states.  
He could also sense that Vox was chomping at the bit for it to be the case too. The other demon was tense, his folded arms taught across his thin frame and his screen occasionally hitching up from his heightened mood. He was _itching_ for a chance to meet with Radiohead. Val could only really snicker gently at it, sliding two of his arms around the male's middle to get his attention.

“You wanna go down there and take a look?” he suggested. “I did say that whatever you wanna do is your call once you got Angel Cakes back in here.”  
“Stupid question, Val,” Vox huffed back, though he did seem to lose some of his tension a little from being touched like that. “If he's on his way in, I want to be there to meet him.”  
“Then, go for it,” the moth agreed, giving a brief squeeze to the tech demon's hips before letting him go. “Fuck 'im up real nice for me too, 'kay?”  
“With pleasure...”

As Vox stepped away from the window and left towards the exit of the pimp's living space, Valentino did the same and sat down in his luxurious chair behind his desk. He let out a sigh at getting a chance to relax, knowing he needed something else to fully complete it.  
“Angel Cakes. Bring me my smokes, would you?”  
He grinned with satisfaction as he watched his star obey the order, the spider having been told to wait patiently on the couch until he was needed for something. As Angel picked up the pack from the table and approached, Val took the time to savour the getup that he'd been ordered to wear. After all, with how rough they'd been only a few hours ago, he didn't have much in the way of intact clothes now...  
The arachnid was now wearing a dark red corset, patterns of feathers and petals embroidered into the surface, while clad in similarly shaded frilly underwear. A pair of small white wings were pinned to his back in an ironic display of his namesake, held on with black straps looping over his shoulders. A new choker with a small gold tag rested upon his 'bust' and the star had been allowed to keep his boots on, being the only item he had left that hadn't been wrecked.

Angel came to a stop by Val's desk, his face dark, scowling and smeared with running eye shadow as he held out the cigarettes with a blunt thrust of his arm. The others remained folded tight against his body, his focus trying to look anywhere but his employer's face. As Val took them with an amused snicker at how miserable his prize looked, the spider took the opportunity to peek out of the window himself while the boss was distracted lighting up.  
He looked down to street level. He could see rising columns of smoke, the faint rattling of machine guns and pistols firing off, the thudded booms of yet more explosions to join the others. He could faintly make out someone in all the mess, a crimson shape darting between cover and outmanoeuvring all of the security. He pressed a hand to the glass. Was it...?  
“Cherri...?”  
“Get away from there, baby,” Val suddenly ordered, causing Angel to flinch as he took a few steps back to where he had stood first. He lowered his head, feeling the moth's eyes run over him as if to inspect what he was looking at. With a drag from his smoke and an exhale of the thick red vapours in the spider's direction, he made his assessment.  
  
“Lose the boots, hon,” he instructed, crossing his legs as Angel recoiled a bit in on himself from the instruction. He opened his mouth, trying to summon whatever reserves of defiance he had left so he didn't have to do it. He didn't want to.  
“V...V-Val, I really-”  
“Ah, ah...” Valentino warned, shaking his head. “Try again.”  
Angel took a deep breath in, his claws squeezing harder on his arms as more smoke was blown in his face.  
“...Daddy,” he finally rasped out, spluttering from the cigarette while trying really hard to be brave again. “Ya know I... I don't like _not_ wearin' these an'-”  
“I know, baby. But this ain't about what you want. Take them off.”  
“But...”  
“Take. Them. _Off._ ”

The venom in the moth's tone crumbled what resistance Angel had left, the spider's face faltering from moody to embarrassed as he reluctantly slipped his claws down to his thighs to pull the shoes off. After some effort, the boots had been discarded in a pile at the side of the desk, and Angel was left barefoot and exposed with his tarantula-like paws pressing into the carpet.  
God _damn_ it, he knew that prick had made him do this on purpose. Val was well aware that he despised his feet in this form, the _asshole_ , that fucking bastard just _humiliating_ him like this... Lord knows he partially deserved it after what he had done to mess things up with Alastor, but that didn't quell Angel's shame about it whatsoever. Even worse, Val didn't seem to care.  
“There we go...” he growled, licking his lips in a smug manner as he saw his property squirm and stare awkwardly at having his spider feet out in the open. “Though, I will say it's a good thing the rest of you's so fine when you've got those things, hehe...”

The mocking chuckle only made it worse, Angel now baring his teeth in a flustered huff as his hatred of them mixed with his shame, making him feel even more pathetic than before. God _fucking_ damn it, damn _all_ of this... why couldn't he have just kept his stupid mouth shut? Alastor would never have made him do this... he probably wouldn't have liked it anyway.  
He wasn't allowed to dwell on it for long though, not when Val suddenly leaned forward and pulled Angel towards him with two hands resting firmly on his backside.  
“Now, don't be like that, sugar,” Val crooned, squeezing his hold and causing Angel to cringe from the hard grope. “You know I always appreciate your... _other_ assets, don't you?”  
Angel didn't dignify it with an answer as the hands on him didn't let go, his attention wandering back towards the window where Cherri was fighting her battles down below. Even if he had no way of knowing why she was there, part of him was still hoping that it was because she knew he was in here. That she would be coming to save him, like she always had done before.  
  
After what he'd done, it wasn't like Alastor was going to...

* * *

With Valentino's security thoroughly entrenched in their mini war against Cherri, Alastor reconstituted himself inside the foyer of the Aphrodite Tower. He was mildly put off by the fact that no-one seemed to be around, even though he'd been nearly silent with his entrance. Either they'd somehow managed to get advance warning... or something about this was wrong.  
He stepped across the floor, turning his nose up at the gaudy décor of velvet and red silk that draped from the roof and walls. There was a large reception desk in the centre of the hall, flanked on either side by two staircases that curved around it in a horseshoe shape to an upper level. It seemed to be where he'd need to go in order to reach Valentino's private residence.  
As Alastor's shoes echoed against against the pillars of smooth marble that gave everything a faint pink-ish hue, his thoughts turned to what exactly he was going to do when he got up there. Though he was certain taking on Valentino would be easy enough, trying to talk to Angel wouldn't be. What if the spider wouldn't listen to the truth? What if he didn't want to come back...?

Before he could think on it further, his concentration was broken by the sound of interference from up ahead. It wasn't like his own on the airwaves, it was electronic, a distinct buzzing piercing his sense of hearing from a screen taking up the entire wall behind the front desk. He stopped only a few paces before it, his eyes narrowing at what he saw. Those glitches and artefacts on the screen... of course.  
“Hello again, _old friend_ ,” Alastor remarked, his tone civil but far from honest. “How awful it is to do business with you again, cowardly as you are to not do it in person.”  
“Come on, Al, I thought we _were_ friends!” Vox replied, his visage taking over the screen and eyeing him down. “I mean, half the reason I helped set this all up is to get a chance to talk to you.”  
“I'm not interested in talking, Vox,” the deer growled, his grin taking on a smug tone to it as he summoned his cane. “If you're smart and value your _limbs_ , you'll save me a lot of trouble and allow me to go to the upper floors.”  
“Oh?” the tech demon hummed, arching a brow up as the screen glitched again. “You want to go see big V? I didn't realise you were interested in getting into the business...

Alastor bore his teeth as he pointed his cane towards the screen, his eye twitching for a moment as his power began to swell around his free hand.  
“I won't ask again.”  
“Now, now, there's no need to rush anything, Al,” Vox cooed, his voice taking on an artificial sweetness that made the deer's stomach turn. “Why hurry up there? It's not like there's anyone who _wants_ you barging in.”  
“I know that you're holding Angel against his will,” the Radio Demon snapped, his voice firm. “And if either you or Valentino know what's good for you, you will release him.”  
“You think _we_ lured that little whore back here?” the other demon chuckled. “No, no, no, he came here because of what _you_ said to him. How he's a _**good little slut**_ who doesn't _deserve_ to be anywhere else but right here. And you can't tell me I'm wrong...”

Alastor's lip curled when Vox played back a sample of _him_ saying that insult in place of speech, a recording of the final straw that had sent Angel away. He knew it was just an attempt to try and rile him up, that much was obvious. But what was concerning about it was that it was starting to work as his clenched fist trembled at his side.  
“Did I strike a nerve?” Vox pouted, mocking sympathy. “Then you probably wouldn't like to know he was _bawling_ his eyes out like a little _bitch_. How all his bravado slipped away so easily after having his heart broken. By _you._ ”  
“This is your final warning, Vox...” the Radio Demon growled, his irises flaring with light as the signature silhouette of radio dials was cast against the wall. “Let him go.”  
Vox merely laughed in response, his voice blaring from the speakers around the screen before the glass suddenly cracked under a surge of electrical current. Alastor took a step back away from the distortion, his ears up and alert to make note of anything out of the ordinary. And he found it when he heard footsteps starting to descend the stairs to his left.

“You know what, Al? You're right,” Vox remarked, taking a leisurely pace down the steps as he adjusted the fit of his suit jacket. “It _is_ better doing this face to face. Like gentleman, yes?”  
“I would agree if you were anything _close_ to a gentleman in the first place,” Alastor sneered, his smile now predatory as he made a clawing gesture with his hand.   
“Big words from a cannibal who picked up a _porn star_ as their little fling. Bet an old soul like you can't even get it up for his appetites, huh?”  
“And those are even bigger words from someone who's little more than a lap dog _receptacle_ for a pimp...”

Vox's own smile dissipated at those words, now on the same level as Alastor. The two demons faced each other down, their stances grounded as though they were preparing for some sort of duel from the old days. While the tech demon's claws were sparking with electricity, Alastor's were covered in wisps of darkness and flashing symbols of his voodoo heritage. This had been a long time coming.  
“Doesn't have to be this way, you know,” Vox suggested, the air around him starting to crackle with static charge. “I'm sure we could work something out, since you know I'm not a pushover like the others.”  
“Yet, here you are trying to make a deal so we don't have to fight,” Alastor snickered back, causing the other's screen to pixelate in annoyance. “Not my fault you're _scared_ you won't win. Because we both know you won't.”

And with that, Vox lost his cool. His thrust his left hand out towards the screen he had been using moments ago, the shards of glass that had broken from the display now hovering in the air under the influence of his electrical and magnetic control. He then jerked his wrist towards Alastor and the storm of shattered fragments followed.  
As he dug in the sharp crimson tips of his gloves to pierce the skin on his wrist, Alastor's powers manifested a mass of black tentacles from a portal on the floor, growing upwards like a giant tree coiling around itself to block the attack. As the glass cut into the mass and caused some of the appendages to crumble away, the others remained intact and a harsh tuning sound of white noise accompanied the Radio Demon's gesture for them to change targets.  
The mass of tentacles suddenly lunged forward like a thrown tree trunk, right on an intercept course with Vox. The TV overlord threw himself out of the way at the last moment, sliding to a halt on the floor as he raised his outstretched palm to the roof. In an instant, the lights of the foyer dimmed and a shuddering bolt of electricity coalesced from the bulbs to arc right down into the shadowy limbs.

The hall was illuminated with a piercing blue light, the shock travelling down the length of the tentacles and feeding back into Alastor, who stumbled back with a juddering of his limbs. Vox grinned as he stood back up, watching as the remnants of his attack sparked around the Radio Demon's body, his coat partially burned and tattered even more than before.  
Alastor's eyes flared again, now replaced by a screen of crimson-tinged static across them as he raised his hands again. Another oozing of black blood summoned multiple portals from the floor and the air itself seemed to distort and warp from the huge amount of darkness he had summoned. He snarled, thrusting his cane forward as if to direct the monstrosities in another attack, three of the masses lunging for Vox at once.  
In retaliation, the tech demon used his magnetic influence on the speaker machinery to deflect the attacks to his side, the heavy audio units sailing through the air to slam into the tentacles with enough force to make them crack the marble floor. As the last one aimed right for his head, Vox used the remaining charge from the lighting system to send a bolt of electricity out his fingertips towards the attacker.

Alastor recoiled as he was struck down by the same trick, the shock coursing through him from his summoned entities and making him fall onto one knee from the after effects. As vapours of smoke rose from him, the Radio Demon had to use his cane to remain upright, breathing laboured and strained. Vox took the opportunity to gloat at how surprisingly easy this was.  
“Oh, Val was right... you're getting sloppy, Al! _Real_ sloppy!” he mocked, rolling his shoulders and gathering more electrical current between his fingers. “Don't tell me it's 'cause you actually _feel_ something for that stupid little cum dumpster _?_ Too fucking rich... though I suppose he's earned that title. He's a _hell_ of a good fuck _._ ”  
As the sound of Vox's laughter echoed all around him like a mantra in his head, the deer pushed himself back onto his feet with a pull on his cane. His body was hunched over and his arms were heavy at his sides, fringe obscuring his face.

How _dare_ he say that about Angel... how d _are_ he be yet another disgusting soul who treated his _partner_ like he was raw meat... If Vox was intending to get him angry, then he was succeeding in his attempts. But that level of ego and arrogance at his relative success in the fight was about to bite him back. Hard.  
Alastor's head suddenly jerked upright, his face replaced by the infamous grinning silhouette of hollow empty eyes, wide glowing smile and the mark on his head that earned him his legend as the Radio Demon. Vox didn't even have a moment to process the shock at seeing it set in before the deer's powers suddenly opened up beside him. In the blink of eye, hundreds of smaller tendrils had rushed out of the portals and ensnared him by the wrists and ankles, their grip far too powerful to break out of.  
And it was for good reason. The tentacles suddenly pulled down towards the ground, forcing Vox onto his knees with an aching strain on his bones from how hard they holding on. The tech demon grimaced as he attempted to summon his electric shocks back, sparks of blue lightning shuddering down the things holding him captive. But it was no good. With Alastor now using the full extent of his power, they simply absorbed it like it was nothing. Oh, _shit._

As he watched the Radio Demon step towards him with an uncharacteristic jerk of his neck to the side, Vox's arms were suddenly wrenched backwards behind his body, bending hard enough at the elbow for the bone to begin snapping. With a crack, he let out a scream as blood started to stain his jacket around the joints, his voice distorting and faltering from the pain.  
Another step forward, another display of strength. This time with the black masses coiling around the Vox's neck, they pulled him forward, smashing his head into the floor. Then they did it again. And again. And _again_. The sound of splintering glass and muffled cries of pain almost sounded like sweet music to Alastor as he stood before his opponent's now crumpled body.  
His demonic aura flared and the tentacles hoisted Vox up for him to inspect. The TV overlord was wheezing, fragments of his screen now broken and filled with pixels and signal noise. His one remaining eye glanced over Alastor, his breathing obscured by a bit-crushing noise threatening to muffle his voice completely. He could only stare as the Radio Demon raised his hand, a thick trail of black running down his wrist from the cut. The source of his power.

Alastor merely lapped it up with an almost sickening satisfaction, his smile as wide as he could make it before he leaned in close enough for his nose to be almost touching Vox's screen.  
“That's always been the problem with you, _old friend_ ,” he purred, his deep voice unfiltered by his radio interference. “You get so wrapped up in what _little_ victories you earn that you never see the real threat until it's too late.”  
“Y-yYoU fffucKiNg psYC-Cho...!” Vox spluttered back, wishing he had the ability to spit so he could at least get one last jab in after being so thoroughly trashed.  
“You're too kind,” Alastor said back, leaning back upright again before his face finally turned back to the typical smug look he had on when he knew he was in a winning position. He turned his head towards the stairs. “You will give me access to that apartment, won't you?”  
Vox didn't bother responding, his gaze falling off to the side in his fatigue. He had little choice, his grunt lost in the noise of his power as the signature ding of an elevator bell suddenly sounded off from the landing above. Alastor smirked.  
“Thank you.”

With a final wrench of his hand downwards, the Radio Demon's tentacles jerked Vox to the floor to crash his head against it. The tech demon went still. The tendrils undid themselves and the foyer returned to relative silence, minus the sounds of broken equipment and the crunch of Vox's broken arms when they were released.  
Alastor let out an almighty sigh of relief, his breathing back to a laboured state as he wobbled against his cane for support so he could stay on his feet. He'd overdone it rather drastically, that much was obvious from the pooling black liquid dripping between his shoes from his wrists. But, damn, that had been worth it.  
Of course, he hadn't outright killed Vox, that hadn't been the intent. But the injuries he'd inflicted would at least keep the overlord out of commission for quite a while from how severe they were. One less thorn in his side to worry about, and one he was certain that would not threaten Angel again lest he receive a similar beat down. Just the thought of his disgusting hands on his spider...  
He blinked at thinking that. _His_ spider? He didn't like to admit Vox had a point with anything, but maybe he did this time.

In any case, he had to return to the task at hand. Taking a moment to compose himself and savouring the sight of his rival in a crumpled mess at his feet, Alastor used his cane to begin ascending the stairs to the elevators. From the muffled thuds he could hear coming through the walls from outside, Cherri was still keeping things active out there. Unless Valentino had another backup plan, there would be nothing standing in his way now.  
As the deer reached the elevator cabin, his tired eyes wandered over the mass of buttons for all the floors and noticed that the top one for the penthouse was illuminated. Even scoundrels like Vox seemed to be able to keep their word when threatened with pain. He pushed it and the doors slid shut to begin his long ascent.  
Alastor leaned against the back wall, wiping his brow from the sweat of his efforts and readjusting his bow-tie in an attempt to appear proper despite the battle damage. It wouldn't be right to be seen as a mess in front of Angel now, would it? Which, unfortunately, turned his thoughts back to what he was going to do next. Again, Valentino would most likely be simple. But trying to make amends with the sinner who had charmed him so would be much more difficult.

But that would have to wait. As the elevator neared Floor 100, Alastor cleared his throat. He still had one more overlord standing in his way.


	7. Renegotiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if he was the last obstacle standing in Alastor's way, Valentino was prepared. His deal with Angel was airtight, unchangeable and fixed unless the Radio Demon wanted to risk the poor little whore being wiped from existence. But, for Angel's sake and to bury this scheme for good, that didn't mean that Alastor would walk away without adding in his own clauses...
> 
> (Another story of these two dorks and working it out completed, thanks for sticking with me.)

When the elevator finally came to a stop on the top floor, Alastor didn't leave it straight away. With fatigue weakening his posture, he kept against the back of the cabin to collect himself and calm down after losing his composure so violently against Vox. Not that it hadn't been satisfying, but it may have been a decision that would backfire if he wasn't careful. Overuse of his power was a thing, after all.  
The Radio Demon let out a strained sigh as he got himself moving again. He pulled his gloves tight over his wrists, his healing factor sealing up the wounds he had inflicted on himself and leaving dried black marks underneath his sleeves. He'd re-open them if necessary, and he was sure he would have to, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.  
For now, he had to concentrate on just getting to his final destination. Now standing in the corridor leading to the impressive looking door of what was undoubtedly Valentino's apartment, Alastor's eyes squinted as he rolled his neck in a circle to loosen up the stiffness. Making sure that the taps of his cane were loud enough to be heard as he walked like they were a warning, he began to plot.

Valentino may have had immense influence and power to earn his position as an overlord, but what Alastor knew of his actual abilities suggested his initial quip that the moth couldn't hold himself in a fight at the Club was true. The pimp's strength was in manipulation and control, the subjugation of weaker demons to do things _for_ him. Vermin like that were always scared of losing that power, especially when someone like him had Angel has leverage.  
But it also may prove to be the moth's biggest flaw. If Alastor tried anything that could jeopardise Valentino's position within the hierarchy, it may end up being quite the bargaining chip to secure Angel's freedom. Though the possibilities of what that may entail would ultimately be up to how the next few minutes would play out.  
The deer stopped just short of the door as he rolled his wrists with an audible crack. He twirled his cane behind him, pulling the shadows with it that were following his path from the elevator and darkening the hall. He took in one last breath, using his free hand to brush loose locks of hair out of his face before he touched the door with two fingertips.

The wood suddenly blasted away from Alastor at the hinges, the dense material splintering as it made contact with the floor and broke into pieces against opposite walls. The waves of darkness silhouetted the Radio Demon completely from view as he stepped inside, a horrible pungent aroma of smoke and sweetness making his nose wrinkle in disgust. He was definitely in the right place.  
As he placed his hands behind his back to dismiss the black tendrils, the rest of the apartment was revealed to Alastor, and he to the occupants. Dead ahead of him, across the living space now covered in shards of wood, Valentino was sat at his desk. The moth was leaning forward on two of his hands with a glare that could kill from behind his glasses. And by his side, with another claw hooked around his waist, stood Angel.  
The arachnid's mouth fell open in shock as Alastor's form was revealed to him from the shadows, Val's hand keeping him rooted to the spot. His eyes widened, one of his hands reaching out to the deer as if to confirm that he hadn't been doped up again and was imagining this. It couldn't be... had Alastor come along with Cherri to rescue him?  
“Al...?”  
  
Angel's almost hopeful whimper was shut down with a clench of the pimp's claw against his thigh, the star shutting up with a muffled whine as Valentino growled at him. Even though he should've felt overjoyed that there was maybe a chance the Radio Demon had chosen to forgive him for what he'd done, all he felt was shame. From being barefoot and exposed in front of him, for essentially betraying him by believing the pimp...  
And fucking hell, he'd caused _exactly_ what he said he hadn't wanted. He didn't want Alastor getting involved or going against Val because he knew the moth would just use him as a tool in his arsenal of deal-making. Or worse.  
Angel's head fell. He wasn't sure he was even worthy to look the deer in the eye now. Not after running back here _willingly_ and allowing himself to be used by the overlords for hours on end because he'd been duped like a chump...

Alastor's own gaze remained firm, even if his cool exterior had briefly faltered at seeing Angel again in the wake of their fallout. At that moment, more than anything, he wanted to forget Valentino and apologise. He wanted to forget that conversation had ever happened, that they could simply pretend it was a bump in the road and move on from it. But it would unfortunately have to wait. He had business to attend to.  
“I figured you wouldn't be kept at bay forever,” Valentino finally remarked, pushing Angel out of the way by his chest when he rounded the desk to face the Radio Demon properly. “I take it Vox royally fucked it up like I thought he would?”  
“You should know,” replied Alastor, his teeth flashing for a second. “You sent him to me.”  
“ _Please._ What that idiot chose to do after he helped me was his own business, not mine,” the moth groaned dismissively, reinforcing his selfishness with how uncaring he sounded. “At least he gave it a solid try. Had a feelin' he wouldn't be able to hack it against you anyway...”  
“But you think you do?”  
“Remember who's parlour you're standin' in, baby. Far as I can tell, I'm holdin' _all_ the cards.”

“Then if you're going to turn this into a negotiation, I'll repeat the terms I gave your subordinate,” Alastor declared, his eyes warping into the shape of radio dials. “Let Angel go and I won't _flay_ you alive.”  
“Oh, I don't think you're in any position to be settin' the ground rules here,” Valentino laughed. “You step into _my_ turf, you're playin' _my_ game. And _I'm_ gonna tell you what the rules are so you remember who the fuck you're messin' with.”  
As if to confirm his statement, Valentino then reached into the inner lining of his red coat, producing a glimmering short blade that was curved on one edge and fastened to a rather plain looking handle. The two components didn't seem like they matched at all, suggesting that it was makeshift in some way.   
The way that Valentino grinned widely having it out was not a good sign and Alastor felt he knew why. _Curses._ Surely the Studio owner didn't actually have access to something like that?  
  
“You know what _this_ is, Radiohead?” the overlord asked, watching as he tilted the knife to make the light reflecting off it shine in the other demon's eye. “This is a blade created from the remains of an angelic weapon, from an Extermination decades ago. Pretty old, yet still pristine and perfect... just like you'd expect from the goody-good _assholes_ Upstairs.”  
The moth suddenly made his intentions clear when his used one of his lower arms to harshly pull Angel back to his side. With two hands now holding the effeminate demon around his torso and his hip, Valentino brandished the sharp edge of the blade and held it up to Angel's neck, angling it so that the pointed end was touching his chin.

“Val...!” the spider exclaimed, struggling against his grip before the cool, shining steel threatened to make a mark on his skin. He ceased his resistance, his hands lowering from their attempt to pull his boss off. He'd been reduced to trembling at what Val could do to him before but... shit, he was really willing to _kill_ him now? He screwed his eyes shut, cursing behind clenched teeth at being powerless to do anything. Damn it...  
“Here's how this is gonna go, _Al,_ ” Valentino hummed, emphasising a tone of revulsion in how he said the other demon's name. “You're gonna turn around, walk away and forget you were ever here. Simple, right? I don't wanna get into any unpleasant business with you, I don't have the time or patience to bother. I'm sure you don't either.”  
“And what if I refuse?” the Radio Demon asked back, causing Val to snicker like the insect he was as he tightened his hold on the blade.  
“I thought you'd be smart enough to get the hint. You try usin' your powers against me, he _dies_. You try and take him away from me, he _dies_. You do _anythin_ ' fishy in the fuckin' slightest... he _dies._ ”   
Alastor's smile weakened at the threat, even though his fangs were shining just as sharply as the blade. This was what he had anticipated would happen, that Valentino would have some sort of trump card up his sleeve so that it wouldn't be easy to get Angel away from his disgusting clutches. He just hadn't anticipated on it being literally in his sleeve...

Indeed, the moth seemed honest in his claim he would not hesitate to the use the weapon if necessary. A “if I can't have him, no one else can” type situation and one that Valentino held onto firmly. He'd invested far too much into Angel to let the Radio Demon have his disgusting claws over _his_ property.  
But the overlord's smug expression began to falter when he didn't get the reaction that he was expecting back from Alastor. A slowly rising sound cut through the sound bites of audience jeering that was buzzing around the Radio Demon's ears, one that even took Angel by surprise.  
Alastor was _laughing_.  
“What the _fuck_ is so funny?!” Valentino snapped, pressing the knife harder against his whore's skin. “You think I won't do it? That I ain't got _hundreds_ of sluts waitin' for their turn?! I _will_ kill him!”  
“No, I don't think you will!” the deer chuckled. He started to walk across the floor, the fragments of the ruined door crunching under his shoes. “You're a lot of things, good fellow, that much is obvious. But, above all, you're _selfish._ ”

With the last word, Alastor came to a stop and placed his cane in front of him, stamping it down with a boom that appeared to resonate through the very fabric of the building itself. His gloves grasped just below the microphone head, the Radio Demon's expression relaxed in contrast to the steadily growing unease in the overlord's.  
“See, I know your type,” the deer began to explain. “At the end of the day, you will only ever commit to something that benefits _you_. This whole charade you arranged with Vox wasn't to get at me, was it? It was to punish _Angel_ for daring to be away from you. You value his work and the profits he reaps too much for you to cut your losses with him, otherwise why go through all this trouble? You may threaten all you like. But I know you won't, you _can't_ , do it.”  
“Tryin' to test me, you prissy bastard?” Valentino snared, lines of red drool spilling from between his canines as his claws clenched hard enough to cut Angel's skin. The spider recoiled with a pained hiss, trying to turn his head away as though he couldn't bare to look. “Then, go ahead. But just know that when you make a move, you might as well have killed him yourse-”  
  
* **THWACK*  
**  
Valentino suddenly lost his grip on the angelic blade when a mass of void suddenly burst from the floor beneath his feet and knocked it from his hand. He gasped in alarm as the weapon went spiralling behind his desk, just in time for more of the shadows to spill out of the portal and break him and Angel apart. The spider fell onto his rear from the force of it, pushing himself away in a scrabble of his feet as he looked on in awe.  
Alastor's eyes had turned into little more than red pin pricks in circles of black, one of his arms directing the movement of the black tentacles as equally dark blood dripped from his wrist. His smile widened as he turned his hand, the strength of his powers wrapping around Valentino's body and actually hoisting him off the ground when they ensnared him.  
In the blink of the eye, the moth had been bound by thick appendages coiling around his form, all of his limbs bound and stretched apart as white noise began to ring loud enough to make his ears hurt. The Radio Demon's laughter rattled through the air like feedback, taking another step forward and lowering the pimp down in his bondage so they were face to face.  
  
“My, my...” hummed Alastor, the distortion on his words once again slipping away as he spoke. “That was even easier than Vox! Though it's exactly what I thought you'd be capable of, which is not much.”  
“You fuckin' let me go right now!” Valentino roared, trying to free himself as he spat in the deer's face. “ _Do it!_ Or I'll-!”  
“Oh, no, it's _much_ more entertaining to see you attempt that yourself,” Alastor shrugged, using his sleeve to wipe away the saliva on his cheek before his eyes thrummed with power again. “Though part of me wonders how you would fare if you were to lose, say... _structure_ in your limbs?

The tentacles tightened and suddenly wrenched backwards, a horrible snapping of bone and muscle wrenching into everyone's ears. The moth roared in agony as he felt his arm break and bend the wrong way, his glasses falling off his face just in time for the Radio Demon's powers to repeat the action on another limb.  
Another crunch, another break, trails of blood starting to leak through the gaps between each tendril as they writhed and bent the pimp's body like he was made of little more than sticks. One of his legs went next, the end of a black shoe sticking out appearing to rotate backwards with another snap.  
“Hm... looks like you're not doing too well with that!” the infamous demon shrugged, adjusting his bow-tie with his opposite hand while his clawing one glowed bright with red energy. “No matter. I think it's time we worked on our final arrangements, sir.”

With a twitch of his forefinger, one of the black lengths slipped away from the mass constricting the insect and coiled around the handle of the angelic knife. It slid back over, now hovering the blade mere centimetres from the middle of Valentino's head. The moth snarled like a feral animal, his anger somehow managing to override his pain to remain defiant in the face of this monster.   
This couldn't be happening, he was _Valentino!_ No one bested him like this, _no one!_ Especially not some egotistical bastard like the Radio Demon... Unfortunately, Alastor didn't seem to care in the slightest when he cleared his throat, his grin dripping with sadistic delight. _  
“_ Feel you've suffered enough? Just say the word and I'll make it all stop...”

However, it was then the Radio Demon's turn to be given a response that both confused him and took him by surprise. Now _Valentino_ was the one who was softly smirking to himself, even as his appendages and face were stained with his own blood.  
“You think it'd be _that_ easy, Radiohead...?” he strained, his deep red eyes narrowing to match the intensity of his opponent's. “You might be able to rough me up _real_ nice, better than anyone's done in years... but you _can't_ kill me. No matter how much you wanna...”  
“And what makes you think I can't?” Alastor asked back, the knife bobbing threateningly before him as the tip rested right on the moth's forehead. “Last I checked, _I_ was the one holding an angelic blade.”  
“Two words, asshole. The _contract_ ,” Val answered, another dark laugh rattling through his beaten and crushed lungs. “You should _know_ how they work... I ain't just got Angel Cakes as an employee, you stupid _freak_. I own _him_. I own his body, his afterlife, his very _soul_. He signed it away to me, for safety and the fruits of what I could provide... And there's a particular clause in there he _mighta_ forgot to mention...”

Alastor's smugness weakened hearing that, his eyes briefly turning towards Angel. The arachnid was against the far wall, curled in on himself and hugging his long legs, watching with a mixture of both worry and fear in his eyes at what he was seeing. He appeared to understand what Valentino meant when he said that, now hiding his face behind his knees.  
“Explain yourself,” the Radio Demon demanded, the squeezing of his vice crushing Valentino harder and making him wince with pain despite his arrogant aura.  
“Only way he gets out of his work with me, any of this, is if I sell him to someone else... of _my_ choice...” the overlord coughed. “Try and change terms without my permission? _Kill_ me to cut me outta the deal? Then poor lil' Angie's soul is _forfeit_. Poof...”

Alastor mentally swore to himself at realising the true terms of Angel's agreement under this filth. Like he had correctly predicted, Valentino had taken precautions to ensure that he would always come out on top, that Angel would never be able to get away unless he got something out of it in return. He'd been hoping to break the contract altogether, but if it would mean that Angel would be at threat of non-existence, then... did it mean his hands were truly tied?  
Not quite. For even with Valentino's proclamations that he'd still won despite being so easily broken and hurt, Alastor was not going to back down. He made another roll of his wrist, the pimp's bindings wrenching his already broken limbs the opposite way. A cacophony of pained yells and ripped cartilage ricocheted off the walls as the deer dropped the knife from his power's hold. He leaned in until their faces were within breathing distance.

“Then let me add in a _new_ clause to your little agreement, Valentino,” Alastor rumbled, his voice seeming to take on gravitas of the legion of spirits that wailed around him when he spoke. “You're right. I might not be able to break the contract. And I'm certain there are things in there that give you free reign to abuse and defy Angel as you see fit... but that ends _today._ ”  
The remaining arms and leg were suddenly broken in the same manner as their counterparts, Valentino's features distorting into shouts from the feeling of his skeleton being crushed and twisted.  
“This is the only warning you'll receive. If I ever see Angel with a mark that he shouldn't have, if I even see him _frown_ because of something you've said or done to him... then I'll come back for you. And I will make sure to take my time breaking _every single bone_ in your body until you're nothing but a twitching _mess_ on the floor.   
“And then I'll do it again. And _again_. And as long as it takes for you to understand who you've tried to plot against. Then I'll broadcast it for _everyone_ , make sure that there's not a sinner anywhere who won't know how _pathetic_ you really are, how little power you _really_ have. And for a man as prideful as you, who revels in his reputation and appearance... that might as well be as bad as death, wouldn't you agree?”

Valentino's eyes widened in shock as the sharp crimson lights of Alastor's eyes paralysed him. The Radio Demon's ears twitched before all the sound in the room seemed to die. All the static noise, the moaning cries of the beast he had summoned, everything. Valentino felt like he'd gone deaf, the world having been muffled behind the distorting power of the deer.  
Until Alastor spoke. Until that unfiltered rasping voice was the only thing that he could hear as if to finalise the threat.  
“You're right when you said I won't be able to kill you _..._ _ **but I will make you wish I could.”**_

And with that, Alastor flung his hand out and sent Valentino along with it. The pimp's head cracked against the edge of his desk, sending him tumbling to the ground with a crash and a splatter of blood against his window. He went still, unconscious in a heap on the floor. It was over.   
Satisfied that he had made his point, the deer dismissed his summoned entities and allowed his hands to fall back down to his sides. A massive wave of exhaustion suddenly took a hold of his body, making his legs give way as he stumbled down onto one knee. His breathing was even more ragged and hoarse than after dealing with Vox, glancing down at his wrist to use what little energy he had left to stop his open blood flow.   
He sighed, closing his eyes. The worst was over, as far as exertion went. Now came the reason he was here. His attention turned towards Angel, the spider still closed off and shielding himself from what had happened with his arms. Alastor grunted as he pulled himself up on his cane, having to use it for support so that he could hobble over to Valentino's prize. Damn, he almost felt his age after using so much power...

“Angel...?” he said softly, causing the white demon to jerk upright at the mention of his name. His head darted around the room, like he'd just woken up from some kind of bad dream. His eyes finally came to rest upon Alastor, the deer stood by his side with a hand outstretched to try and help him back to his feet.  
Without a word, Angel complied, rubbing his eyes and worsening the dark streaks in his fur as Alastor pulled him up. He looked to his right, his mouth falling open at the broken mess that was his boss oozing red into the carpets. He couldn't believe it. He'd only ever _dreamt_ of seeing Valentino like that in the past, only imagined working up the strength to wreck him like he'd done to many a criminal down here before. Was it real?  
“D-Did ya... I mean, is he...?”  
“No,” Alastor answered with a shake of his head, shuffling his shoulders left and right to try and loosen his burned and ripped coat off while keeping himself steady on his cane. “But he will take some time to recover. Best we become scarce before then.”

The spider nodded, hugging his arms tight again as his legs bent inward in some awkward attempt to hide the sight of his feet from the Radio Demon. He sighed, a miserable look making his face crumple as the shame still surged strong within him. Even though he was grateful, even though he _loved_ Alastor for breaking him out of this prison... he was still ultimately the one responsible for it all.  
“Look like a fuckin' mess...” he murmured. “Not like I don't deserve it... shit, all those things I said...!”  
“Enough, Angel,” Alastor insisted, his tone softly spoken but firm enough to draw the arachnid's attention to him despite his drained state. “We can talk about this later. Right now, we need to leave.”  
The Radio Demon used his hand to offer his coat, an offer Angel took rather quickly as he shivered from an unexpected sensation of cold. He hung the red garment from his upper shoulders, following Alastor's lead as the pair began to walk towards the elevator.

Angel stopped short of the door to look behind him. Alastor's destruction had been no less than thorough and powerful, a realisation of something he'd been wishing for the strength to do himself for the decades of misuse and mistreatment. He scowled, baring his teeth as he used the chance to have a final word.  
“ _Fuck_ you, Val...”

* * *

The next thing Alastor could sense was that he was lying on something... soft.

The Radio Demon's eyes struggled to open for a moment before his vision came back to him, a tuning sound accompanying the motion as he pushed himself up on his elbows. He couldn't remember how he'd ended up in this position, the last memory he had being of walking out of the Tower with Angel by his side.   
The next thing he knew, he was here and he didn't know how. He appeared to be laying on a bed, the soft sheets folding under the pressure from his gloved fingertips. He shook his head to get back into working order, supposing that he must've fallen unconscious somehow.  
As a sound bite of interference bounced off the walls, Alastor recognised where he was from his surroundings. The neon light, the dressing table, the faint pink colour of the bed itself. He was back where this had all technically started, in Angel's room at the Hotel. But how had he gotten here? And why didn't he remember?  
  
He was stopped from his puzzled musings when the door to his left opened. The Radio Demon's ears tweaked as he was met with the sight of Angel slipping in through the gap, then turning around to close it behind him. He supposed that would at least explain the _how_ of his predicament.  
The spider was wearing a grey-green sweater that seemed a smidgen too big for him, thick sleeved and baggy as it was long enough to go below his waist and reach his legs. He wore slighter darker shaded thigh high socks and he was holding a steaming mug between his upper hands, cradling it in his palms as he walked.  
As Angel rotated around to face Al, he seemed to blink with a start at seeing the other demon staring back at him. He braved a weak smile as he walked in with gentle steps, tilting his head curiously to check how his 'patient' was doing.

“Oh! Uh... yer awake, huh?”  
“It would seem so...” Alastor murmured, running a hand through his messy hair as he shuffled to the end of the bed closest to Angel. “What happened?”  
“When we got outta the Tower, ya looked ready to crash to be honest,” the spider explained, taking a seat at his table and facing the deer. “Both me _an'_ Cherri had to drag ya somewhere to rest once we got to the Hotel. An' ya ain't got a bed in yer office, so...”  
“I see... I must've overexerted my powers. It's very rare of me to actually _sleep_ otherwise.”  
“I'll say,” Angel smirked, thinking back to the devastation left behind in his wake. “Can't say either o' them didn't deserve it though.”  
“It will keep them out of action for some time,” Alastor explained, rolling his head with a crack of his neck. “At the very least, Valentino will be quite the fool if he tries to abuse his authority on you again.”  
“Yeah, no kiddin'...”

Silence fell as Alastor stifled the rare occasion where he actually needed to yawn. He was grateful that Angel had gone to this length to allow him a chance to recover from using too much of his blood, briefly glancing down to his wrists to check that he'd properly healed his wounds. It seemed that he had.   
But he stopped when a thought struck him. A sudden wave of unease crossed his mind as he remembered where he'd fallen asleep. On Angel's bed. With his memory a blank and the pair of them having been in an obviously severe emotional state following the confrontation with Valentino, he just wanted to make sure that he hadn't allowed his compromised mentality to fuel his judgement.  
“We... didn't do-”  
“Oh, no!” Angel cried, using both his lower arms to gesture at him to stay calm. “No, no, no, none o' that shit, I swear! Ya just... slept.”  
“Ah... of course,” Alastor sighed, shaking his head for being so presumptuous. Even with his “urges”, Angel wouldn't do that. “My apologies.”  
“It's okay,” the star nodded, his smile still gentle. “Wouldn'ta wanted to wake ya anyway. Yer kinda _cute_ when yer conked out like that.”  
“Oh, am I now?”  
Angel allowed himself to chuckle, and Alastor smiled wider back at him in return. It was all too unfortunately brief as the room turned quiet again, however. Something heavy hung in the air around the two of them and they both knew what it was. It was just a matter of who would make the first move of addressing their 'break-up'.  
  
Angel briefly coughed to get the deer's attention away from such things after a minute or so of them both keeping to themselves. He held out the mug he'd carried in, wisps of steam rising from it in gentle spirals.  
“I-I, uh... I got ya some coffee. Black. That's how ya like it, right?”  
Alastor took the offered drink with a soft bob of his head, bringing it to his lips and taking a rather big swig. The bitterness that graced him was perfect.  
“It is. Thank you, Angel.”  
“'s no biggie. Cha Cha started gettin' all worked up 'bout me doin' somethin' _nice_ , but screw it. I didn't just wanna sit around doin' nothin', ya know? After all that... you...”  
  
Sensing the star's efforts to talk fading, the Radio Demon looked back up to enquire what was wrong. Again, he had a feeling what it was.  
“Angel?”  
He didn't get an answer right away. Instead, the arachnid clutched at the bottom of his sweater with two hands while his others were folded. He was wringing the material tightly, appearing to be on edge about what to say as his eyes drifted to the ground.  
“Um...”  
“What is it?” Alastor asked again, tilting his head. Angel huffed and looked to his opposite side, biting his lip.  
“So is this the part where we shake hands? Say we gave it a fair cop and then just go back to normal...?”  
Alastor raised a brow.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Come on, ain't it obvious?” the spider shrugged, fidgeting with his claws before he growled in annoyance at himself for trying to avoid the subject. “I broke yer trust, Al. Even with the TV bastard tweakin' things, I _believed_ the shit he an' Val were tellin' me rather than what you said about it. I made ya feel like a moron for botherin' wi' me 'cause _I_ was bein' a moron. You were right. I was more willin' to listen to that fucker than you...”   
“Angel, look-”  
“No, I get it. Ya said it yerself... stuff like that's a deal-breaker. It's over, right?”

Alastor's eyes narrowed at the same time his grin fell a little. He very rarely felt sympathy for any soul down here, but Angel was one of the few exceptions that he kept making through things like this flaring up more than once.  
To see the effeminate one so openly degrade himself for honest mistakes was clearly a residual symptom of what he had suffered at the hands of Valentino. The Radio Demon didn't like seeing that, working up the energy to reaffirm his smile. He was just as responsible for making things right as Angel was, after all.  
  
“Well... our disagreement was because the two of them stuck their filthy noses into business that wasn't theirs. I don't think it would be... _proper_ to break off an arrangement based on external influences such as that. Would you?”  
“Huh...?” Angel blinked, looking at Alastor taking another sip of his drink. The deer spoke calmly to make it obvious what he meant.  
“I do not believe our deal should be cancelled from what Vox or Valentino tried to do,” he clarified, though seemed to hesitate as Angel looked to be more than a little surprised by the offer. “Unless... _you_ feel that-”  
“No, no, I don't wanna break it off!” he yelped back, almost before his partner had a chance to get those last few words out. Alastor merely smirked as he lowered the cup into his lap.  
  
“Good. But I will have to insist upon an amendment to the conditions we have in place.”  
“Name it,” said Angel, the spider leaning forward attentively and dragging his seat along with him. “Anythin' ya want, it's cool! I can try an' stop swearin', or won't even touch ya any more if ya-”  
“Peace, Angel,” the deer interrupted, raising a hand to keep the white demon on his seat. “I do not intend anything drastic. I simply ask that if you have any doubts, any worries at all about what we are trying with this, you _talk_ to me. And me alone. Is that reasonable?”  
“Y-Yeah! Yeah, o' course!”  
“Very good, then.”

Satisfied that they had been able to move past their little hiccup relatively quickly now the truth was known to all, Alastor rose from his sitting place with the cup held firmly in one of his hands. As he began to walk towards the door, he caught sight of Angel still sitting there with that uncertain posture keeping him in place.   
“Is something still wrong?” the Radio Demon asked, snapping Angel out of his daydream.  
“Sorry, just... can't believe ya'd still be okay to take _another_ chance on me.”  
“Please, dear. What's done is done,” Alastor assured, getting onto one of his knees in front of him so that he could get Angel's eyes looking his way. “We both said a lot of things we didn't mean. But there's nothing more to be said about it now.”   
“But all I've done through all this is just whine like a little bitch 'bout how I'm awful an' it's _stupid!”_ he protested. “I'm _better_ than this. An' surely ya ain't a fan o' puttin' up with-”  
“Stop that.”

Angel didn't finish his sentence because Alastor wouldn't let him. For just before he was about to launch into another rambling tirade, the same ones that even he was getting sick of falling into because the Radio Demon was a good listener, the star felt something touch his cheek. Something warm and direct, focused just below the markings on his lighter coloured eye.  
Alastor had taken the initiative to lean in and plant his lips there, a soft kiss accompanied by the gentle touch of his free hand on the spider's shoulder. Angel was certain he could feel his heart about to break through his ribcage from how it swelled with warmth, his own flushed state surely visible through his pearly fur.  
  
Holy hell, Alastor had kissed him. _He'd_ kissed _him_. _He'd_ made the first move. Oh shit, shit, shit, _shit..._  
  
As the Radio Demon pulled away, it was clear he hadn't done this without some degree of hesitation on his part. His cheeks were flaring up with rose colours against his lighter shaded skin, the broken noises of static and signal noise having turned louder as he moved back.   
Yet, he forced a smirk out all the same, trying to calm himself down from being so bold as he removed his hand from Angel to straighten his shirt. Well, at least he could be certain that his partner wouldn't be doubting what he said after _that_.  
“...perhaps it is because you feel comfortable enough around me to talk about such personal matters instead of with the others,” Alastor suggested, standing back up again as Angel's wide eyes stared back. “Like I have been... attempting to work towards being comfortable with... your, um... physical preferences...”  
“Al...” the arachnid whispered, voice wavering even with how quiet he was.  
“In a _limited_ sense, I should stress. But I hope that this is enough to... convince you that I am _trying_ to be serious about this. I failed in this just as much as you did being so harsh. So, I felt it was only right to-”

His hope was realised when Angel suddenly lunged forward and wrapped Alastor's body in a four-armed hug while he was still sat down, the arachnid's head resting on the deer's chest with a very encouraging nuzzle of his cheek there. Though the sudden touch of multiple parts of him made Alastor's entire form tense with a ringing of feedback piercing the air, he only took a few seconds to adjust to it this time rather than a full minute.   
“Ya really mean that...?” Angel mumbled, his speech partially muffled by his partner's body.  
“We're both sailing in uncharted waters, Angel,” Alastor reasoned. “There are bound to be storms ahead. But that doesn't mean the journey is not worth taking.”  
  
The star beamed, humming in bliss as he squeezed the deer even tighter than before without a single intention of letting go. As much as it made Alastor's lip curl for a passing moment at being essentially held prisoner, he couldn't hide the genuine nature of his own smile. He sighed in 'defeat', rubbing one of his hands through Angel's hair.  
“...I love ya, Al.”  
The softly spoken admission made the Radio Demon blink again, only pausing momentarily in his stroking before he resumed it with a warm chuckle. He may not have been able to return such blunt sentiments yet, not with his own insecurities on the matter being something he needed to work out.   
But, for the moment... he could at least understand how Angel could say that to him.

“Couldn't have put it better, _mon cher._ ”


End file.
